


Deep Blue Sea

by Rynbie, somanyspoons



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pirate AU, mermaid au, non-graphic suicide of minor villain characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22689454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynbie/pseuds/Rynbie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyspoons/pseuds/somanyspoons
Summary: Finch is a mermaid.  Albert is a pirate captain in desperate need of a mermaid.Adapted from a roleplay.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Deep Blue Sea

Finch was as free as a bird. A rather ironic simile, come to think of it, considering he was a merman. A siren, to be more specific. The world was his oyster, the ocean his domain. He could go wherever he pleased. Which, again, is ironic if you consider the fact that he was caught in an old fishing net. This spot, this dock, was one of his most trafficked areas. He came here to sing, to lure those he took a dislike to to their deaths. He enjoyed it. It never hurt him, so he never thought to stop. His father had been correct: this was a merman's purpose. Killing. He hadn't known quite what he was expecting, when he'd seen the old heap of net in the sandy bottom of the docks. He'd approached it, curiously. It hadn't been there yesterday, which was no surprise, the sea liked to move things around. But he'd touched it, tried to spread it out. It could go for a nice covering for the entrance to the cave that was his home. And then he'd done something wrong, and his arm had ended up tangled in the heavy rope. The more he struggled, the more it seemed he stuck—his entire tail, right down to the dazzling blue fin on the end was caught up between the cursed old rope. He'd made such a struggle that he'd ended up nearly beaching himself. His tail was deeper in the water, and his human half stuck up, in the shallower parts of the dock. What was worse, he couldn't move. The net had gotten caught on a large rock. He was rendered immobile. He just hoped to God that no one was coming. Maybe he could get himself out of this. He began to struggle a bit more, tail flapping uselessly, sending up quite a ruckus to the single ship that towered above him, docked at this certain port. He hadn't even gotten a chance to kill any of the crew, yet.

Albert was resting in his cabin, flipping his lucky gold piece in the air and catching it, over and over, when his first mate burst in. 

"Captain DaSilva, we've got something!" 

Albert sat up quickly, taking on a serious tone as he addressed Race. "What is it?" 

Race was out of breath, clearly excited. "Something caught in our net sir. It looks like a man, but some of the crew say..." he cut off to catch his breath. 

"What, boy, they say what?" He demanded. 

Race's eyes lit up and he grinned that wide grin. "They say they can see a tail. It's a mermaid, Captain. The boys are headed down to collect it right now." 

"No!" Albert shot up and threw on his coat, barking orders. "Tell them to stay aboard and  _ stay quiet. _ I want to do this myself."

Albert emerged under the starry sky and breathed in that delicious, salty air. His men were all peering over the edge. 

"Look there," said Mush, "you can see the moonlight hit the scales! It  _ is _ a mermaid!" 

Al shoved him aside and looked down himself. He could barely make out the shape of a man in the darkness, and indeed, something glittering where his legs ought to be in the water. "Everyone quiet, and stay back out of sight. This is my prize." 

A chorus of "Yes, Captain," ran through the men. Albert might not quite be the terror of the seas, but he was respected by his crew.

Albert made his way down onto the dock and slowly approached the writhing creature. As a show of good faith, he removed his gunbelt and dropped it, letting it bang on the planks. "Easy now," he murmured, hands out in front of him. "You look like you could use some help."

Finch was breathing hard, practically in a frenzy of trying to escape the blasted net. How had he managed this? His father had warned him  _ never _ to approach any human-made contraptions, no matter how interesting it seemed, and he hadn't listened. He should have  _ listened _ . Speaking of listening, his ears picked up footsteps, coming from the docks. He whirled around as best he could, letting out a small noise of pain as the net tightened. There was a man there. Finch's eyes were accustomed to the darkness, and pierced through it easily. He stilled, looking at him cautiously. He did something Finch did not expect, and dropped his belt, his eyes going to the gun that rested on the wooden docks. He seemed... non-threatening, even raising his hands up, as if Finch was going to attack him. He wanted to. He looked delicious, fiery red hair, strong arms. He'd make a sure meal. But Finch could do nothing wrapped up in this accursed trap. "Yes," He admitted, his voice lilting and musical. "Please." He had some bit of an accent too, though it was untraceable. Ugh. If this human ended up helping him, Finch would owe him a favor, as was merpeople custom.

Al smiled sweetly at the merman and pulled free his boot knife. "Here, I need this to cut the net. I won't hurt you, I promise you." He moved closer cautiously and took a piece of the net in his hands, slowly beginning to cut it away. He focused on freeing the merman's head, leaving his hands and tail entangled for now so that he couldn't get away. "What's your name?" He asked innocently. "Mine's Albert."

Finch reared back a bit as he pulled out the knife, though he was  _ slightly _ calmed by the man's words. He kept his eyes open on him, on the knife, as if that would make a difference if the man decided to harm him. His head was free and he twisted it to fix his piercing gaze fully on him, beginning to squirm around a bit in the net. "Albert," He said softly, playing it around in his mind for a while. "I am Finch," He said, his heart beating a bit faster. "Thank you for... for freeing me, Albert."

"For freeing you...?" Albert said, the sweetness in his voice turning sickly and threatening. "Oh my darling, not at all." He pulled the silver collar from inside his coat and clamped it around Finch's neck swiftly, gripping the chain affixed to it. "You're mine now, little monster" he growled. He could only hope the old witch who'd sold him this collar had been honest about its properties.

Finch's eyes widened, and before he could rear his head back, Albert had grabbed him, fixing something to his throat. " _ No! _ " He cried, hissing and beginning to struggle against the now-cut net. One hand came free, though his other hand and tail were stuck fast. He used his newfound freedom to claw at Albert's arm, drawing a satisfying line through his skin and watching the blood well up. This man had underestimated one thing. He was no normal mermaid, not in the slightest. Opening his mouth, he began to sing. But nothing happened. He tried once more. It was as if there was something blocking his song. Something physical. Something like— _ the collar _ . He shrieked as he realized just how in danger he really was, flailing madly but getting nowhere. He used his free hand to try to claw at the collar, writhing in the water.(edited)

In spite of the pain in his arm, Al laughed in satisfaction and relief as he realized the collar was doing exactly as promised. He turned to call up to his men. "Mush, Tommy, get down here! I'll need a hand or two carrying my catch!" As the boys arrived, Al nodded to Finch. "Be mindful, it likes to claw. And don't damage the tail, we need this thing in perfect condition." Tommy nodded and leaned down to pick up Finch's tail, cursing as Finch's thrashing knocked him on his ass in the water. Al just laughed jovially, too happy to be annoyed. "You ought not fight, little monster," Albert said with a grin. "We need you nice and pretty."

Finch  _ screamed _ , flipping onto his stomach and doing all in his power to swim away. He was still caught to the rock though, so he only managed to get a few feet before he could go no further. "I'll kill you," He snarled, aiming to claw Albert. "I'll kill all your men, you last." But his words were empty threats. He was the only at a disadvantage, and what a disadvantage it was. Unable to move, unable to sing, and outnumbered. He darted forward, trying to sink his sharp teeth into someone,  _ anyone _ , but the net stopped him, just inches away from anyone. If these men were to take him, he wouldn't go without a fight.

"Do it, sweetheart," Albert snarled, and motioned to his men up on the ship. "Kill us. Well? I'm waiting." Finally he smiled again and retrieved his gunbelt, patting his blunderbuss fondly as he strapped it on. "No more fighting,  _ Finch. _ I don't want to have to put a hole through you. I'd imagine it decreases the value."

Finch was breathing raggedly, glaring up at Albert with a fire worthy of London. His teeth were bared, but he stopped struggling as much, eyes fixed on the barrel of the gun. He'd seen what they could do before, from afar. How they could end a life so quickly. His eyes rose to meet Albert's, an almost regal sense of pride in them as he ceased to fight.

Al smirked in triumph. "That's better," he said condescendingly, then turned to Mush and Tommy. "Get it below deck, and ready to set sail. We have an appointment to keep." 

\---

A short while later, Albert watched Mush and Tommy unceremoniously dump the merman into a large glass tank below deck, in the back storage room situated just below the captain's quarters. Saltwater splashed up out of the tank as he was dropped in, but Al didn't bother stepping back to avoid the sharp spray he was so accustomed to. "This is your new home until we reach our destination," Al said shortly. "I'd get used to it if I were you." He moved nearer to the tank and eyed Finch a bit more closely. "Pity. You're a pretty thing to be such evil. Suppose that's why everyone wants one. People fight wars over pretty things like you." He shook his head softly. "But I've caught you. Albert DaSilva, Captain of the Manhattan, the first man to capture a mermaid." He didn't sound half as proud about that as he should've.

Finch glowering eyes didn't leave Albert's as he was carried into the ship. He let all his muscles and limbs relax into dead weight, smiling in satisfaction as the two men carrying him struggled even more. He grunted as he was dumped into a tank, so much smaller than the sea he'd been accustomed to. He sat up, glaring at him still. "You seem quite proud, Albert DaSilva, Captain of the Manhattan. I hope to have twice the pride you do when I rip your heart from your chest." He turned his eyes away, staring straight ahead. Even as furious as he looked, he was still gorgeous. His hair hung in small curls over his eyes, his cheekbones and jawline were stunningly pronounced. His eyes were sharp, a stormy greyish blue, like the clouds in the midst of an ocean gale. His tail was a different shade of blue, glistening in the lamplight, a teal aquamarine, and the large fin on the end was a deep dark blue, darker than both. The glimmery scales lining up his arms were the same shade as the tail. His lips perfect and plump, perfect for kissing, if I do say so myself. He was the definition of beauty. But it was a deadly kind of beauty. Sharp but cold. Cunning and lethal.

"Proud?" Albert asked, and grimaced. "I ought to be. Taking a killer out of the seas, making it safer for all men to make their way in the world. I deserve to be proud." He leaned down over Finch, probably too close. "I'll have no trouble out of you. Understand? My men aren't meals, they're my family. You hurt them, you'll pay the consequences."

Finch was still, as the captain leaned closer to him. He darted forward with a snarl, aiming to rip out his throat with his teeth. The water sloshed in the tank at his sudden movement. "You are not my  _ master _ , Captain DaSilva. I have none. Any consequence--" He struggled over the word consequence, lips unfamiliar to the word-- "you bestow will be  _ nothing _ to me."

Albert hopped back at the sudden movement, shaking off his stunned expression to instead laugh, though still with an edge of nerves. Finch had gotten close, too close. He needed to be more careful. "Let me make myself more clear," he growled, eyes narrowed. "If you hurt them, I will hurt you back. Behave yourself." With that, he ordered Mush back on deck and commanded Tommy to keep watch over the creature. Albert stalked up the stairs and oversaw the men setting sail. They needed to be swift if they were to keep their appointment with Pulitzer. They nearly hadn't made the deadline. "Set course for the rendezvous point," he commanded loudly. "As quickly as the waves will carry us."

Finch just growled at him, chilling and inhuman. As the second man came down to watch him, Finch stared at the back of his head, trying and failing to sing several times. 

\---

He didn't know how long it had been. Minutes, hours, days? In reality, it had only been a night, but Finch had no way of knowing that. All he knew was the rock of the ship, the now tepid water in his tank, and the occasional snore of the pirate that was supposed to be watching him. He let out a small, upset sigh, running a hand through his dry hair. He hated dry hair. He hated everything about this. He couldn't see the stars, anymore. He couldn't feel the freezing seawater as he swam. He could only sit here. The tank was only big enough for his tail and part of his torso, which meant the rest of him was out of the water. He'd never hated a feeling so passionately. Finch didn't know why they had taken him. He didn't even know what they would want from him, other than maybe his voice. But they'd taken that, already. What more good was he? He'd never been on a human-made structure, and everything about this experience was unfamiliar and unpleasant. The light from the lanterns hung around his tank were too bright and garish. They hurt his eyes. He would never see his father again, that he was sure. Nor his brothers, or friends. He probably wouldn't ever get to see another ocean creature. He hadn't even noticed a tear beginning to fall down his cheek. He'd never get to sing again. Singing was his passion. It was the only thing that made him happy. And these men had taken it away from him. Another tear fell. He opened his mouth, trying to sing a single note, but found instead that he released a sob. That seemed to turn a knob in his tear ducts, and more tears began to fall. Why had these men taken him? Why him? He didn't know.

Albert tried to sleep. Usually, the gently rocking and loud creaks of his ship lulled him into an easy slumber, but tonight, another sound floated up to him from below. The soft, almost musical, heart wrenching sobs of the merman. He threw off his blanket and threw open his cabin door, looking out at the stars. They weren't much closer to their destination than they'd been last night. Another sob pierced the air, and his men's eyes followed the sound. "I'll deal with it," Al said bitterly. "Back to work." He made his way below deck and tapped Tommy on the shoulder. "Go to bed, he's not going anywhere." Tommy nodded and disappeared from the storage room. Albert looked at the merman and spoke firmly. "You're not going to tug at my heartstrings with your false tears. I know what you are."

Finch's tail was drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around it and hiding his head as he cried. He heard the thunk of boots approaching, and looked up, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't bother wiping them away. "You think I intend to manipulate you with my grieving?" He asked, struggling through the word 'manipulate'. "I have lost  _ everything _ . You have stolen my voice from me, my freedom, my friends and family. And now you intend to rob of me my time to sorrow? Merciless snake. Leave me. Allow me to grieve in peace." His voice was alluringly lithe, for someone who had been shedding tears.

Albert made a noise of disgust and ran his fingers through his messy ginger locks. "Stop talking like you're  _ human. _ You're a monster. You kill, you devour. How many have you taken away from their families? How many  _ everything _ 's have you stolen? How many mothers' sons, children's parents, have you ripped away? I feel no pity for you, only for those you've mercilessly dragged to their deaths. You're worthy of every moment of the future that awaits you."

A spark of anger flowed through Finch, but he let it fade to an ember, choosing not to act on it. "You know not of what you speak, O great Pirate Captain." Another glistening tear ran down his cheek. "How many has your band of men killed, mm? Calling me 'monster' for my consumption of your kind is like a heffer calling  _ humans _ monsters for their consumption of steak." He let a small bit of that anger through. "You are simply a cow to me, Captain DaSilva." He raised his shoulders in a shrugging gesture. "Though uglier, if I do say so myself."

Al opened his mouth to argue about the sanctity of human life, then let it fall shut. It took him a moment to find his ground in the argument. "I kill men in a fair fight. You seduce them to their deaths. We are  _ not _ similar." It was barely a defense, weak and full of holes, but he stood by it. "Now keep your damned voice down, I need to sleep."

Finch just looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He'd seen him scrambling for his argument, and knew he'd won. It didn't do much to lift his mood, but it helped. It gave him satisfaction. "Do you have any steak aboard the ship, sir?" He asked, his voice going high and innocent. "I find myself getting a bit hungry." A smile twitched at his lips as he looked at the captain.

Al made a face and grunted in displeasure. "I suppose I have to feed you." He stalked over to a barrel and dug into it, returning to toss two salt-preserved fish into the tank. "There. Eat."

Finch hated that he flinched when Al tossed him the fish. He wrinkled his nose, flicking the floating fish away. "I'm not one to eat my meals cooked. Anything  _ raw _ , Captain?" He knew he was pushing his buttons, but didn't want to stop. "Perhaps a member of your crew that you take a dislike to?" He asked, looking up at the captain with eyes full of seductiveness, mirth, and malice.

Al looked even more disgusted than before. "Christ, you're horrid. Eat what I gave you or starve, the choice is yours." With that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. He was done for the night with this damned  _ fish _ toying with him.

Finch just sighed, looking down at the two fish. He really  _ was _ hungry, though he didn't make a point to eat fish, especially fish that were smaller than him. It felt  _ wrong _ , somehow. Like cannibalism. He looked at the fish, then at his tail, the scales matching, and revulsion rolled through him. He tossed the fish away, managing to land them both back into the barrel they'd come in. He couldn't eat them, not possibly. A few more tears rolled down his cheeks, and he let out another small sob, not caring if Albert DaSilva thought was being loud or not. If they really didn't want him to use his voice, they should have gagged him. He cried throughout the night.

Two days later, things were very much the same, though Finch was definitely weaker than he had been. Albert had come down occasionally, to taunt and to make sure he was still properly restrained with his collar. He hated every second of it. His water wasn't cold anymore either, but warm. Albert had thrown him two more fish, and again, Finch had requested something raw. A human. Albert had ignored him and left, and there Finch had thrown the fish back into the barrel, beginning to cry once more. It was worse when there was  _ actually _ someone watching him, however. He tried to speak to them once, but they just turned their head away, and he was left alone. The silence and lack of human contact was suffocating. The size of the tank was suffocating, as well. Finally, the third night approached. Actually, Finch had no  _ idea _ if it was the third night or not. He could only tell if was night when Albert came down the stairs wearing sleepwear. He heard the oh-so-familiar clomp of boots storming down the stairs and didn't even try to hide his tears. His eyes were red and puffy, and his hands shook, though the latter was because of how hungry he was. He wished he could just  _ sleep _ , but the tank didn't allow for much space to move around, so he was stuck waking up every few hours. He just straightened up and waiting for Albert's berating to begin.

For the third night in a row, Albert was tormented by the siren's cries and the memory of his words. That he was just a creature trying to survive, like any other. The thought tugged at Albert. It made him deeply uncomfortable. He went down the storage room again, tired and emotionally defeated. His demeanor was different now, his cocky bullshit had melted away, replaced with exhausted surrender. He looked at the merman and sighed softly, rubbing at his eyes. "What do you need, to be more comfortable?"

He hadn't expected the question. He'd expected another tirade of insults, maybe even a blow or two. But none came. He opened his eyes, unable to help another tear escape and roll down his pale cheek. Was he being truthful? He closed his eyes again, in exhaustion and hunger. Just the sight of Albert made him want to rip into him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to muster the strength. "This tank is too small," He whispered, sighing pitifully. "The water is... not what I am regularly accustomed to. And—" He bit his lip. "I do not eat fish."

Al nodded slowly, scratching at his chin. "We can refresh your water. The tank... We're docking tomorrow to resupply, I can see about finding something bigger. And the fish... I can't just feed you people. I have a little salted pork set aside for myself if you want it, but again, I can try to find you something raw when we dock tomorrow." He squinted at him, noticing the shaking finally and knowing it's meaning. "You haven't been eating at all?"

He sunk a little lower in his tank, looking rather feeble. "To ask me to consume fish is like me requesting you to consume a human arm."  _ God, an arm sounded so good right now. _ "So to answer your question, Captain DaSilva, no. I have not been eating." He laughed, throatily. "Did you think I was  _ toying _ with you, all those times I requested something else to eat?" The fact that they were docking tomorrow piqued Finch's interests, though in his hungered state, nothing seemed as important as getting food.

Al wrinkled his nose at the comparison and sighed. "I'll be right back." He disappeared up and into his quarters for a moment. It felt strange, being kind to this monster. But as much as he wanted to set aside any human feelings towards it... Could he really sacrifice his own humanity just to get this job done? He shook off the thought and headed back to the storage room with salted pork and a generous lump of cheese on a plate, and a mug of beer. He started to approach the tank, cautiously, and held them out at arm's length. "I don't know if you need to drink or not," he said softly, nodding to the mug. "But you may have this."

Finch lay back, perfectly content to just sit here. He wouldn't have been surprised if Albert simply hadn't returned at all, and left him to die. It would have been easily for him, if that were the case. But Al did return, with something that smelled  _ heavenly _ . He looked up, sitting up a little bit straighter as he approached, eyeing him. He seemed to deflate as he stopped short, and reached up to grab them, eyes closing as his slightly webbed fingers brushed over the human skin. He took the plate, taking the pork and beginning to eat it before he wrinkled his nose. Too salty. Too dry. He dunked it in the water, running his hands over it to be rid of all of the dried salt before he tore into it. He finished it quickly, looking at the cheese suspiciously before he hesitantly took a bite and found the taste pleasing. He set the plate atop his tail and looked at the liquid in the mug, smelling it and almost gagging. "It smells vile, Captain DaSilva. Do you mean to poison me?"

Albert choked a laugh at his response to the beer, and sat down in the watchmen's chair, drinking it himself. "It's strong to be sure, but you get used to it when you're on the seas and there's nothing else to drink. Perhaps I'll get some wine at this port, let you try that."

He slumped back into the tank and crossed his arms, a bit peeved that this ruffian had robbed him of the chance to drink whatever it was. "I do not know what 'wine' is, though if it smells as suspicious as that—" He stumbled over the word suspicious, "I do believe I shall pass." He closed his eyes, bringing up some of the water and washing his face of tears.  _ Now that he's given me a proper meal, the torment is soon to start, _ Finch though, casting a weary look up at Albert.

Al took a deep swig of the beer, and just stared at Finch for a moment. Finally he looked down into his mug, swirling it idly, and spoke very quietly. Something that had been nagging at his mind. "You said you have a family?"

_ Ah, here it is. _ But Finch was tired. He had barely slept the last three days, and the risk of the captain finding his family was slim to none. So he decided to indulge him a little. "I did say that, and I do. There is my father, and my two brothers." He looked lazily up at him, distaste in his eyes as he saw him drink. "Why, do you plan on capturing them, too?" Good luck. He and his siblings were ferocious, though it was nothing compared to the wrath of his father.

Al looked surprised by his answer, and uncomfortable. "I have the same. A father and two brothers." He suddenly wished there was more beer in his mug. His voice was tinged with sadness. "I would do anything for them. Anything I had to." He blinked away a tear, and coughed and wiped his face to try and conceal the moment of weakness. "I've no intention of capturing anyone else. I'm not a mermaid hunter by choice. When my business with you is done, I hope never to see another as long as I live."

"I would do the same," He said softly, thinking of his youngest. His attention was divided as he looked up, catching Albert in his moment of weakness. He chuckled. "You're not going to tug at my heartstrings with you false tears, Captain DaSilva." He echoed his own words back at him, though a shiver of nervousness ran through him as Albert finished his sentence. "Business? You mean you aren't just holding me here as some sort of twisted trophy?"

"Of course not," Albert said, waving the idea away. "I've no need for a pet or any trophies. But there's a man will pay any price for a thing like you. A man who, unfortunately for you and I both, possesses something I need."

Finch's blood ran a bit colder than it already was. "You mean to.... to sell me? Like a slave?" Contempt filled his eyes. He seemed to shrink, a small bit. His father had told him stories of merpeople being sold by humans. Apparently there was quite the price to be paid for one. The stories he'd been told were far from good. "What is it that a pirate captain like you could  _ possibly _ need in exchange for me?" He asked, coldly. He'd stuttered over the word 'possibly', though not because he was unfamiliar with it. He was frightened, just a little.

Albert didn't like the fear in the siren's voice, and his own tone darkened as he attempted to harden his heart. "I told you, I'd do anything for my family." He finished the mug and sat it down. "They have my brother. He's to be executed in a week's time, unless I exchange a mermaid for his freedom." He looked away, almost ashamed. "I've no taste for this business, I assure you. But I will do what I must."

Finch didn't look at him, his eyes darting this way and that on the floor, trying to think. "I despise you, Albert DaSilva, Captain of the Manhattan." He cupped some water in his hand and flung it up at the man. "Leave me be, you heartless slug."

_ Heartless? _ Al scoffed, his good will towards this creature gone for the moment. "As you wish. Rot in your loneliness then." He left the merman alone, and in his anger ordered that no one was to step foot in that room tonight. Leave him alone with his thoughts. Al fell heavily into bed, and a troubled, shallow sleep.

\--- 

The night had been long and lonely, as were the last three. But this time, Finch knew his fate. He was to be sold, as if he were a slave. If all men were as heartless as Albert was, he was surely to die. As he flicked his tail lazily around, a plan began forming in his mind. Barely anyone ever came into this room. How many people actually  _ worked _ on this ship? He looked at his tail, and at his wrists, which were unbound. His neck was still collared, but that meant nothing. Escape was more important than ever singing again. Besides, perhaps he could work it off once he got back home. His father could do something about it, surely. He made up his mind, spending the rest of the night planning.

Finch tried three times before he was able to do it. He'd sloshed most of the water out of the tank by the third time, but eventually, he was able to work himself out of the tank. He flopped on the ground and it knocked the wind out of him, but he knew he had no time to spare. It was morning time, he thought, and Albert hardly ever came to him in the morning. It was rather easy to work himself up the plank, and onto the upper deck, though his arms screamed with the effort of carrying him all the way there. No one was around, which was surprising, though Finch wasn't complaining in the slightest. The Fates were on his side. They had to be. He was so close. The railing was only a few feet away, and he almost shed a tear as he saw the sparkling blue waters.

And then something changed. It was a fuzzy sensation, at the base of his tail. He didn't dare look back, still working himself towards the railing, but it soon worsened to an itching. The more he tried to move, the worse it became, until it was an unbearable burning. It was as if someone had lit him aflame. He'd stopped moving, uncontrolled whimpers escaping his mouth as he twisted, trying to find the source of his pain, but there was  _ nothing _ . He looked back in fear as he noticed the usually shiny, rich color of his scales were looking a bit rotted. The pain was the worst he'd ever felt, and he collapsed to the ground, curling up in a small ball, letting out an agonized scream. It was so hot. Everything was hot, all over. He cried out again, surely screaming his throat raw, practically delirious with how badly it hurt. It was as if someone had driven a sword into his tail, and had begun to slice it in two. He was lying on the deck, the sun beating down on him, screaming, crying, shaking. Gone were his radiant blue scales, his large fin. In their place were two legs. All thoughts of escaping were lost in his mind as he nearly blacked out, still shrieking in torment. The only thing he could think of was,  _ God, make it stop. Please make it stop. _

The men had been playing poker below deck instead of at their stations, but the screams ripping through the air brought them all running back above. They gathered around the once-mermaid, chattering in confusion. Albert stomped out onto the deck and shoved his men aside, looking down at the pitiful creature. "Move, move!" He ordered, kneeling by Finch and hesitantly reaching out to touch one leg. "What is this?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Finch grabbed his arm, holding tight and writhed, unable to really tell what was happening through the hazy clouds of his torture. "I don't know," He cried out, legs flopping about uselessly. "I don't know, I don't know, make it  _ stop, please, _ stop it, it hurts!!" The collar must have sensed that his screams were a type of song, and his throat locked up, ceasing all sounds. His face was still contorted in affliction, the only water on him was from the tears cascading down his cheeks. His eyes darted around wildly, trying to make sense of anything that was going on.

Albert didn't understand what was happening, but he had to act. He only really had one idea. He ran to the rain and cast a bucket over the side, hauling it up and then running over to cast the salty water over Finch's legs.

Finch was a whimpering mess, clutching his hair and letting out choked sobs. He heard Al get up and leave, and sobbed pitifully, trying to move but only ending up twisting around. All the sudden a heap of cool water flooded him, and he gasped, arching his back slightly. The pain had lessened, if only slightly enough to where he wasn't screaming bloody murder. He twisted around, trying to keep the water on him, but it rolled off, drenching the deck beneath him. "Do it again!!" He shouted, his throat torn. " _ Please! _ "

Al ignored good plea, instead scooping Finch up onto his arms and barking orders. "Find me some blankets! Soak them in saltwater and bring them to my quarters,  _ now! _ " He carried Finch to his cabin and laid him in the bed, smoothing back his hair in some weak attempt to comfort him. "Calm now, breathe softly. You're fine." Race threw open the door to give Albert the sopping wet blankets before Al pushed him out and closed the door. Al spread them out, laying them over and tucking them under Finch's legs until every inch of them was touching saltwater. He didn't think about how it was making his mattress wet, that was a concern for later. For now, his mermaid was a man, a man in great pain, and he had to do something about it.

Finch clung to him, gasping for breath as he was carried and dumped somewhere softer than he'd ever felt in his life. He threw his head back and let out a drawn out agonized moan. He felt Albert touching his hair and looked up, eyes wild as he tried to focus on his words. Swallowing hard, he took the deepest breath he could manage, repeating it until he felt cool wet blankets were laid his legs and let out another gasp, though this was of gratitude. "What have you done to me?" He asked, blue-grey eyes locked on Albert's, his voice weary, tired and exhausted and his tone demanding. "Why have you done this, have I not suffered enough?"

"I did nothing!" Albert gasped out. "I did not do this. I didn't know this would happen." He smoothed the blankets over Finch's legs gently. "Has this happened before? Can you all grow legs? Does it still hurt?"

Finch let his eyes close, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks. A tidal wave of weariness surged through him, now that the adrenaline had faded. "No," He whispered harrowingly. "I don't know what happened, I did not know—" He let out a small sob. "It still hurts, a little bit, the—the water has helped." He bit back a 'thank you'. This man was the reason Finch was in this mess. "This has never happened before, it  _ hurts _ ." He bit his lip, closing his eyes as another small wave of pain ran through him. "Is this what it feels like for all of you?" His sentences were punctuated with pained gasps.

"No," Albert murmured, disturbed more than he wanted to admit by this course of events. "It doesn't hurt us..." He turned and called for Race, who came running. He ordered him to empty the tank refill it with fresh, cold water, then turned back to Finch. He gently laid a hand on his shoulder and prayed the beast wouldn't bite into him. "I'll have you back in the water soon, I'm sure it will help. Maybe... Maybe it'll hurt less with time?"

Finch was too tired to even make an effort to try to kill him. Besides, his legs were his first priority. "I would rather not find out," He whispered, sagging against the pillow and mattress. "What is this?" He asked, gesturing to his bedding. "Why is it so... soft?" He didn't want to talk about how he'd been found. Why he'd been up on deck in the first place. He'd surely be chained up, now.

Al looked up at him in surprise, then slight amusement. "You've never been in a bed before? It's where we humans sleep. This one is far from as soft as they come. Here-" he reached down for his own thick, dry blanket and brought it up over Finch, tucking it under his chin. "See? We cover up like this and fall asleep."

Finch looked over at the blanket, flinching as Al covered him up with it, but found himself relaxing, even offering a confused little smile. "We've never had... these things before. I do not need to sleep all that often, but when I do, it's... usually on a rock, or—I have a cave." He reached a hand up, touching the thick material. "Is this what...  _ you _ sleep on?"

Al laughed softly and nodded. "This is where I sleep. I'll have to dry the mattress out now you've gotten it all wet, but it's alright. Are you feeling any better? Are you hungry at all?"

Finch looked around, not daring to be rude or anything lest Albert become mean. He was in  _ real _ danger, now. He nodded, shakily. "I  _ am _ feeling... better. The water on my legs as helped greatly, th-thank you." He'd said it, closing his eyes in defeat. "And  _ yes _ , I'm hungry." The only thing he'd eaten in the past four days had been the meat Al had brought him as well as the cheese. He was positively  _ starving _ . It was a wonder he'd made it as far as he did without collapsing from exhaustion. He swallowed, mind beginning to whirl. Why had this happened? Was it permanent? Would he ever get his tail back? He touched his neck, where the grooves of his gills still rested. The fear in his eyes was obvious, and he ripped off the covers, seeing if his legs were still there. They were.

Al blushed slightly at the nakedness before him. Now that Finch was out of immediate danger, Al had the freedom to be embarrassed by his nudity. He gently covered his legs again and rubbed at them softly. He called for Race and told to bring two portions of pork and cheese, along with another beer. While they waited, Al looked over Finch's dejected expression. "Look on the bright side," he said sadly. "If you're not a mermaid anymore, I've no use for you. The commandant isn't interested in a pretty boy with no scales. I'll have to set you free."  _ And never see my brother again. _ Race returned with the food and left it on the nightstand before showing himself out.

He winced as Al touched his legs, though it wasn't out of pain, just general tenderness. He shrunk back as Albert called for someone else, turning his piercing glare on the man until he'd left. He opened his mouth to retort, swallowing, completely torn. "No tail..." He whispered, horrified, beginning to wiggle a little in his blanket cocoon. "Set me free—My tail, gone..." He didn't know what to do, beginning to shake. "I don't even know how to walk, Captain DaSilva. You may as well just—just run me through."

Al felt a sharp pang of pity for the poor creature. "No," he said quietly, partly to himself. "I've put you in this position, and I won't kill you and I won't abandon you to it. I can teach you to walk, get you clothes, help you find a safe place to stay." He closed his eyes. "I was cruel to you, but I..." He looked around as if to be sure none of his men could hear. "I apologize. I was trying to distance myself from this act, this disgusting choice I have no choice in. I would do anything for my brother, but it... It's too late for that now. I've no mermaid, just a man who needs my help."

Finch looked absolutely terrified by all of those prospects, shrinking away from him and into the soft blankets more. "Walking... sounds very formidable." He closed his eyes, a tear running down his cheek. "Can we... talk of other things?" He asked desperately. "Please." He looked towards the food, raising a hand to reach for it, propping himself up. "Perhaps I can try some of... the foul-smelling liquid."

Al reached to help Finch sit up, then took the mug and handed it to him. "Here, try it. It's not so bad. You may even like it." His smile was still sad, but he tried not to think of the heartache he couldn't handle at this moment. "It's certainly no wine, but it quenches the thirst."

Finch looked at it, trying not to smell as he brought it to his lips, gulping some down and making a disgusted face. "It tastes absolutely  _ foul _ ," He reported, though looked at it once more, and took a deeper drink. "I shall never like a drink such as this." Another drink.

Albert chuckled at him, and took a bite of the cheese. "So said we all at one point or another." He sighed and looked at Finch for a long moment. "I... Would you like to rest up here, today? In bed, I mean. It must be more comfortable than that tank. But if you prefer the water, we can put you back in."

" _ Do not _ put me back there," He said sharply, before looking down. "I did not enjoy my time, there. I would... much prefer to rest here. It's... soft." He reached for the meat, biting into it and jerking back, touching his teeth. They were... sharper than a normal human's teeth, but nothing compared to what they once were. He whimpered, biting into the pork, before setting it down, quickly, and taking a drink from his mug. "My voice and my freedom," He murmured, looking down. "And now my pride and joy. My tail..." He'd been stripped of everything he once was... He took the cheese, beginning to eat it. "If I am to rest here," He said, looking around at the bed. "Where are you to rest? Shall you accompany me?"

"O-oh," Al stuttered out, his cheeks turning pink. The very idea of laying beside this very naked, very beautiful man was almost too much for him. "No, um... I can bed down in the floor. It's fine, really. Not as comfortable, but I've had much worse."

Finch did not understand the fluster, keeping his bright eyes fixed upon Albert. "Why would you?" He cast a look at the bed. "There is room enough for two." He swallowed, and his voice lowered. "Why should I deprive you of bedding area when I am your captive?"

Albert stayed pink, and couldn't meet the merman's eyes. "You misunderstand... In human culture, when two men share a bed... It's considered to be, well, an act of romance. It would be inappropriate of me to take advantage of your ignorance and sleep beside you, just because you're beautiful."

Finch looked down. "Ah," He said, looking almost skeptical. "I see." He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at how  _ dry _ it was, though he didn't complain. "I did not know of that, thank you for informing me." He smiled, as Albert called him beautiful. He'd known it, of course, sirens were often very vain creatures but something about even Albert acknowledging it made him feel extra confident. Though, there was one thing... "You should call me that," He said, his voice almost emotional. "I am far from beautiful in this form."

Al shook his head and nearly reached for Finch before pulling back. He looked those grey blue eyes and was, for a moment, hypnotized. "Your tail is gorgeous, but it's not where your beauty lies. No, you're right. Far from beautiful. You're... Magnificent. Ethereal." He blinked and the spell was broken, and he looked away in embarrassment.

Finch looked at him for a long time, eyes big. "I'm a Siren, Captain DaSilva." He looked away, down at his legs, and his lip curled. "I  _ was _ . I would be vainly flattered by your adoration, though since I have nothing to gain from it I suppose there is no reason to try and seduce you." He let out a sigh. How had he gone from 'monster' to 'magnificent'? He let out a soft chuckle. "Thank you, all the same."

Finch's soft lamenting over his legs panged at Albert's heart, and he didn't like that one bit. He sighed and rose to his feet. "You should get some rest. You've been through much today. I'll refresh your blankets while you sleep. When you wake, I can show you how to walk."

Finch sighed, looking up at him. "I--"  _ This man captured you. This man cursed you with legs. He stole your voice from you, your freedom. Kill him. _ "Thank you for allowing me rest here." He finished, playing with his hands. "I very much appreciate it."

Al nodded and moved for the exit, standing in the doorway for a moment as he searched for the right words. He couldn't find them, but he tried nonetheless. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I've taken everything from you and look what good it's done me. I've hurt you tremendously, and my brother will still die. I'm sorry." He didn't wait for an answer before closing the door behind him.

Finch couldn't look at him, instead moving around, trying to get comfortable. He fell into a peaceful sleep, more relaxed than he'd ever felt. He dreamt of the sea. He woke up a handful of hours later, to a bit of stinging in his legs, and looked around. He didn't quite know what to do. Albert wasn't sleeping on the floor as he'd thought, and Finch sat up, unwrapping his blankets and peering at himself. "...Captain DaSilva...?" He asked, his voice husky and from both his agony earlier as well as sleep. He waited for a long moment, but no one came. He supposed he would have to go out and look for him, and slid himself out of bed, heart pounding as he looked at his legs dangling. He balanced himself with the bedside table, letting out an excited little noise as he stood. A dry strand of hair fell into his eyes and he cursed, not thinking, and reached up to put it back into place. He went crashing to the floor, sprawled on his back. His legs.... didn't hurt anymore, despite being free of the blankets.

Albert was talking to the men on deck when he heard the crash, and ran into his cabin. He quickly put his arms under Finch and lifted him up, setting him on the edge of the bed and helping him balance. "Easy there, you're going to hurt yourself. First thing's first, I can't have you walking about the ship in the nude. You'll distract the men."

Finch was embarrassed at his show of foolishness and clumsiness, but accepted the help, wrapping his arm around Al's shoulder, breathing deeply. "I called out for you, no one came, I simply thought to seek you out. But... that did not end up working so well." He wet his lips, running a hand over his bare leg, unfazed by his nakedness. "Legs are so  _ soft _ , captain. It's... very strange." He looked up at Albert's words, laughing softly, musically. "You cannot have me walking about the ship at  _ all _ , captain, you know that full well."

Albert laughed with him. "You'll surely cause a distraction, even fully clothed." He went and grabbed some extra clothes, just breeches and a loose shirt, and helped Finch get them on. He was caught up looking at the collar as he pulled the shirt over Finch's head, and frowned. "I'd remove that, but... I've no reason to believe you wouldn't sing us all to our deaths the moment I did. I'll remove it when I set you free, you have my word."

Finch grimaced as the shirt was pulled over his head, the material feeling restrictive and uncomfortable. He scoffed at Al's words, and toyed with his collar, as if trying to pull it off. "There's no guarantee I would even be able to sing anymore," He said quietly, but changed the subject as he toyed with the sleeves of the shirt. He turned his eyes on Al, a whining pout upon his face. "Oh,  _ must _ I wear a shirt? I  _ do _ understand the pants, but..." He made a small whining noise in the back of his throat. "I don't like it."

Al couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something charming about Finch. Maybe it was part of his magic. "Cast it off then, if you don't like it. I'll not make you wear it." He stood and held both hands out for Finch. "We're docking soon in a little port to resupply. If you're walking by then, you can accompany me down to the town. Now come on, let us give it a try."

Finch quickly stripped of the shirt, feeling happier because of it, before looking at Al, a little nervous. "I am... a little unsure about this, captain." Still, he took both of his hands though. "What if I fall again?"

"I won't let you fall," Al promised with a warm smile. "And you may call me Albert. The formality is unnecessary." He tugged Finch to his feet a little too quickly and had to dive forwards, wrapping his arms around him to hold him up. "There you go. Put all your weight on me, and just try to stand."

Finch let out a surprised cry, toppling into him, putting their faces quite close. "Very well then, Albert." He whispered, looking up at him. He let out a quick breath, putting all his weight on Albert and beginning to prop himself up, obviously working hard. "This is very strange," He said softly, but managed to stand up. One he had, he let out a little laugh. "This is... easier than I thought!!"

Al smiled at him brightly. "You're doing a lovely job. Now..." He carefully stepped back, but kept his hands latched onto Finch's. "Try to take a step or two."

Finch observed him stepping back and began to panic slightly, instinctively taking a step forward. His knees gave out after a second of standing, and he fell into him with a little moan of discontentment. "I had stepped!" He claimed, struggling to right himself. "I had achieved it for a small moment, and then..." He looked down at his wobbly legs. "I've decided I hate these things."

"It's alright now, it's alright. You'll get the hang of it. Go slowly this time." He moved back again, holding tightly to Finch's arms. "You can do this."

Finch clung to him, his hands tightly gripping his arms. "Okay..." Using Albert as a crutch, he managed to take a step. His legs gave out slightly, but he didn't drop, instead helping himself back up. He let out an exhilarated laugh, looking up at Albert. "I--I did it! Right? I did it!" He took another shaking step, and of course his victory was short lived as he tripped, sending both him  _ and _ Albert sprawling to the floor.

Albert had instinctively wrapped both arms around Finch protectively as they fell. He giggled as he lay there with Finch on top of him, then sighed and let his head fall back against the slats of the floor. "You did it," he confirmed. "You just need to practice."

Finch was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at Al. "Can we practice more?" He asked, completely aware of the romantic nature of how they were posed. He was collected though. "I want to learn to walk. And--and  _ run _ . And jump, oh, god Albert, can I jump?"

Al laughed again, his eyes sparkling at Finch. He resisted the unwelcome urge to kiss his forehead. "Of course you can jump, but I'd try for walking first. Come on, let's try again." He gently got them both to their feet.

Finch nodded shakily, getting and holding tight to his hands. "Another try, then. Let us hope I don't end up atop you, again." He concentrated hard, lifting his leg and placing it firmly down, locking it before it could fall. A full step. He took another step, his grin becoming more and more excited. "Perhaps this was... easier than I once thought...!"

Al smiled at him and kept hold of him as he walked, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in his heart for this creature.

... 

Albert sighed in frustration and thrust the shirt towards Finch again. "I told you, if you're coming into town with me you must be dressed."

Finch growled, picking it up and sneering at it. "I don't  _ like _ it, Albert. It feels restrictive, too tight. Why can I not simply go out wearing what I have on?" He was wearing pants and no shirt, with boots.

"Men do not simply walk around half naked in a small seaside town," Albert tried to explain. "You'll draw far too much attention, and that's the last thing a pirate needs. We're here under the guise that we're a simple shipping vessel, we must be discreet."

He whined, looking up at him pleadingly, but gave up as he saw how serious he was. "I... I do not wish to draw attention..." He sighed, throwing the shirt on. "Are you happy, now?" He snapped, though not entirely meaning to. The shirt was on backwards.

Al stifled a laugh at the sight of him.  _ Gods, he's cute... Shut up. _ "It's on backwards, here, let me just..." He helped Finch adjust the shirt and turn it the right way, then smiled and offered him an arm. "Would you accompany me to the local pub, good sir?"

Finch looked miserable, but he allowed Albert to help him. "I would be  _ honored _ to accompany you, captain," He said, sarcastically. " _ Without _ this blasted clothing. But since that is not an option, I shall instead accompany with a slightly begrudging nature." He took his arm, still a little unfamiliar with the idea of walking.

Albert patted his hand softly where it rested on his arm and led him down to the dock as the other men swirled around them loading cargo and making arrangements with the locals. Even for a small port town, the dock was bustling with activity. As they wandered into the town, Albert going slowly to accommodate Finch, things seemed to calmed down a bit. They found the local pub easily and Albert escorted Finch inside. The smell of food and beer filled the air, thick and sweet. A woman with curly, mussy hair smiled at them from behind the bar. "You lads grab yourselves a table and I'll be with you shortly." Albert chose a table in a dim, quiet corner where Finch was less likely to be overwhelmed, and politely held his seat out for him.

Finch walked a bit strangely, holding onto Albert. As much as he hated to admit it, he was terrified. Each human he passed, he clung closer to Al, walking unsteadily. He couldn't sing. He had no way to defend himself. He touched his collar, as if trying to remove it, but he didn't. Just... seeing if it was still there. He sat heavily, still really unsure about how to sit down, but he managed, looking around suspiciously. "What is this place?"

"It's a pub," Al explained, pulling his chair close to Finch's and sitting down, so he could lean on him if he needed to. "People come here to drink and eat and spend time together." 

The woman from the bar bumbled over and smiled at them. "It's lovely to have ya here, what can I get for you?" 

Al smiled politely and sat a few gold pieces on the table, watching the woman's eyes go wide. "Two steaks, one rare and one medium. With whatever vegetables you have, and bring round some cake when you get a chance. And ah, a nice bottle of wine." The woman hurriedly collected the coins and nodded before scurrying away.

Finch just listened, looking between them in half-confusion. "Spend time together?" He looked around at all the patrons, then at Albert. "So... why are we all the way over here, then?" Not that he was complaining.

"So you can get used to being around humans without drowning in it," Al said gently. 

Abruptly, a rather muscular half-drunk man who had been eyeing Finch stumbled over and grinned at him. "Well aren't you a gorgeous thing," he said. He nodded to Albert. "Why not leave this little ginger to his drink and come spend your evening with a real man, hm?" Al's eyes narrowed at him dangerously, and some sharp emotion he couldn't name ripped through him.

Finch looked up, taken aback, scooting a little bit closer to Albert.  _ People come here to drink and spend time together... So this is normal, right? _ He cast a nervous look towards Al, before returning his gaze to the man. He was struck with nervousness, at his words.  _ A real man. Does he know I'm not a real human man? How does he know? _ "What--what do you mean by a... a real man?"

"Well look at him," the guy said, motioning lazily to Albert. "A skinny little thing like him can't bring you the pleasure I can, and will."

Albert ground out a few words. "You need to walk away." The man looked amused. "That so?"

Finch looked between them, noting the discord and swallowing. " _ Pleasure? _ " He repeated. "You believe you could give me... pleasure??" He was... intrigued, by what he meant, but looked at Albert. He looked furious. He struggled to stand, facing the man with a slightly confused expression. "How do you mean?"

The man was grinning even more widely now as he leaned towards Finch. "Why don't you come with me, let me show you..." 

That was far enough. Albert shoved his chair back as he stood up, stepping between them. The guy seemed like he was ready to fight for a moment, until he noticed the several other men - Al's crewmen - who had stood at the same moment as Albert. Al moved in closer to him and whispered harshly, hand tapping his gun belt. "Speak to my friend like that again, and you'll catch a bullet, boy _. _ " 

The guy put up his hands in submission and stepped back, then turned and left the pub. The other men sat down, and the tense mood quickly faded from the room.

Albert motioned for Finch to sit and took his own seat. "I'm sorry about that. Some men are... More crass than others."

Finch didn't like the way the man was looking at him, and he did the only thing he thought to. He opened his mouth and began to sing. But... he couldn't. His hand went to his neck and he stepped back, hanging his head, letting Al take over. He sat back into his chair, a little disoriented, still confused as to what had even happened between them. "What was he saying?" He asked, swallowing hard. "What did he mean by that?" He felt... so lost. "What just happened?"

Al sighed softly and lowered his voice, leaning closer to Finch so as not to embarrass him with people overhearing. "He was... Trying to get you to go to bed with him. He wanted to have sex with you. And he wasn't particularly polite or charming about it," Al grumbled. The food arrived and Al immediately buried his grumpiness in his glass of wine.

Finch let out a small noise, covering his mouth. "He wanted to... to  _ bed me? _ " He cast a look back towards the door, as if he was going to come back. "I was not aware that was his intentions..." He looked up quickly as his food arrived, too frightened to thank the woman serving them. He looked to Albert, a nervous question bubbling up. "How would one be... polite or charming about asking someone for... something like that? So I can know... just in case it happens again."

"Oh, um... Hm." Albert considered this for a second, then bit his lip nervously and let it go. "Would you... like me to show you?"

Finch looked at him, expression unreadable. "I would, yes. Please." He waited expectantly.

Al took a deep breath and shrugged. Couldn't hurt to oblige him, surely. He reached over and gently stroked his fingers along the back of Finch's hand, then took it in his own. "Finch... In all my travels I've never seen such an unreasonably beautiful man as you. You are as stunning as you are charming, and I... I would consider it the greatest of honors to claim that I was granted even a single kiss from your lips. Though..." He lifted Finch's hand and pressed his trembling lips to it ever-so-briefly. "I will gladly settle for this, if you prefer. Anything you allow me is a treasure beyond my most extravagant dreams, and I'll not beg for more." He looked timidly into Finch's eyes now, trying not to think about how shy and soft he suddenly felt.

Finch's entire face lit up with a scarlet blush, and he froze, letting Albert's lips graze his hand. "Yes..." He breathed out, before he could stop himself, but  _ Gods _ , he hoped he hadn't heard that. No one had  _ ever _ spoken to him in such a way, and it showed. He cast a nervous look around at the other patrons, visibly perturbed. He honestly had no idea whether Albert was being serious, scanning his eyes almost  _ frantically _ for any sign of jesting, but could find none. "Is--is that how you ask?" He whispered, heart racing faster than anything. "What would I say in return, Albert? I would--I would say yes, correct?"

Al's eyes flickered away in embarrassment as Finch murmured a  _ yes _ , but he turned them back to him quickly. His voice was so soft, edged with nervousness. "You would say yes, if it pleased you. Or no if it did not. And any man worth having would respect the answer you gave him."

Most things were forgotten, as he looked at Albert, confusion, fear, enthrallment and amorousness in his eyes. "So, if... if I granted you the privilege to kiss me, you would... do so? And if I denied you, you would refrain?" He was speaking hypothetically, of course. Right??? He knew Albert had just technically answered that question, but his mind seemed to refuse to understand it. "...Will everyone ask as nicely as you did?”

"Y-yes," Al answered, stumbling slightly over the word. "I would respect your wishes in all matters, I swear it." His blush spread between his freckles and onto his ears. "Most won't ask so kindly. Most only want satisfaction, and don't much care for who they receive it from. I believe..." He swallowed nervously. "I believe it should be a matter of great importance, who you share such things with, and how."

Finch's eyes were wide, looking at him, the amount of blush equal on their faces. "That is... certainly reassuring to hear," He started, letting out a tiny, almost frightened laugh. "I agree with you on that sentiment. I would not share an experience as romantic as a kiss with someone I would not consider a potential mate, of course." He wanted to say yes. He wanted to so badly, but... the fear of Albert rejecting him, the fear of ridicule, death perhaps, anything other than his desired outcome was too great a risk. "I'm... growing a bit hungry," He said lamely, turning his eyes from Albert's pretty flushed face towards the food that had been set before them.

Albert tried to hide his disappointment, turning his focus onto the food. All he had wanted was to hear a  _ yes _ from those lips, but... Maybe it was better this way. "I hope you enjoy the food... I couldn't well order raw meat, but this is close. Try the wine," he added with a smile. "I'm eager to hear what you think of it."

Finch gave him a small smile, new to using a knife and fork, but picking it up quite well, both literally and figuratively. He raised his glass, looking at the red liquid and looked up at Al before taking a small sip. He cocked his head. There was a... cacophony of flavor, mostly bitter but a touch of sweetness. "It is... better than I thought it would be." He tried anither bite of steak, washing it down with another sip. "Why do you not carry  _ this _ on board, instead of the other foul tasting liquid?”

Al laughed at the question. He was consistently amused by Finch's new experiences. "It costs a pretty penny more than beer, but I think I can stand to bring a few bottles aboard for you." He pushed the smaller plate with a thin slice of lemon cake towards him. "Try this, you'll love it."

Finch looked intrigued, pushing his plate away and taking the fork, digging into the lemon cake. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Moist and so, so, sweet, tangy. He almost dropped his fork, looking at Albert in shock. " _ What is this _ ?"

More laughter, thick and genuine. "It's cake, my dear," he said without thinking. "It's meant to be a special treat. I thought you deserved to experience it."

Finch's eyes stayed on him, unable to mask a spark of joy as Albert called him the petname. He was enchanted by his laughter, but his attention split, and he dove towards the cake again. "It's delicious," He said, in between bites. "Gods, I never knew humans could have such fine taste." He finished off the cake, and only then began to realize he hadn't left any for Albert. " _ Oh _ . I'm afraid I've been terribly selfish," He said, smile dropping from his face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize..."

Al waved his hand dismissively and smiled. "Don't concern yourself. My joy came from seeing yours." With that, he turned back to his food and began to devour it. He was hungrier for a real meal than he'd realized.

Finch turned a light shade of pink.  _ His joy came from seeing mine...? _ He turned back to his food, eyes flicking back to Al every so often. He finished up his food, taking his glass of wine and finishing it, looking around at the rest of the patrons. "Thank you for... bringing me up here. I've never been on land before, it's... weird."

"It is that," Al laughed. As if on cue, someone in another corner began playing a fiddle, a lively little tune. Someone whooped, and several men and women were on their feet dancing in an instant. They twirled and skipped around and through the tables, laughing jovially as they went. Al watched them with amusement, and finished his food. Finally he looked back at Finch. "Are you ready to go? I don't want this to be too much for you. I thought you might want to rest."

Finch jumped slightly at the sound of the instrument, his eyes searching for the owner and looking a bit bewildered at all of the people dancing. "If you would like to go, then yes, we can go." Though he would never admit it, he was a little frightened of what was happening. It was all so unfamiliar, foreign and new. He was, in all senses of the word, a fish out of water.

Albert stood up and helped Finch to his feet, leading him out of the noisy tavern and into the street. The music still played behind them, and Al hummed along with it for a moment. "I love good music," he said idly, then looked at Finch's collar and frowned curiously. "What happens when you sing? Does it always kill?"

Finch walked along with him, looking up at the question. He swallowed. "Of course it doesn't always kill," He said, smiling thinly. "It lures, entrances, bends those who hear it to my will, but it is my words to those I seduce. My song lures them in, like bait upon a string, and they reel themselves in. They die if I instruct them to." He felt a chill go down his back. He'd overshared, hadn't he? Albert was disgusted. He shivered, silently pleading that Albert wouldn't be traumatized and leave him alone here. After all, he could walk, right? He didn't need to keep him anymore.

Albert nodded, tensing just a bit at the end of the explanation. Still, he smiled thoughtfully. "I wish I could hear it, just once. I'd imagine it's beautiful." He looked again at the collar and sighed. "I'm sorry that I haven't taken it off. I'm... overly cautious. I hope that you're no danger to me, but I wouldn't blame you if you were."

Finch shifted uncomfortably.  _ He attacked me. He captured me. I should not be feeling like this. _ "I'm not a monster," He said, his voice small. "I... I don't want to prove you right." He hardly dared to hope. "And--and I can control it, too. Direct it at certain people, so you could hear it without falling under. M-maybe I  _ could _ show you..."

Al stopped walking, tugging gently on Finch's arm to stop him as well. He wanted to believe what he was feeling between them was real, not some seduction that prefaced his death at this beautiful creatures hand. He looked into his eyes for a long time, then too a long breath. "I've heard it said that to hear a siren's voice is worth the death that awaits you. I suppose I'm fool enough to risk it, for you." He let go of Finch and reached forward, his fingertips brushing Finch's neck so lightly as he uncoupled the collar. He opened his mouth to ask Finch a question, but was interrupted as the man from the bar approached. Al groaned. "Thought you learned your lesson." 

"Thought wrong," he slurred out angrily, stumbling too close to Albert. "I don much like being threatened in my own hometown by some filthy outsider. I demand recompense." Something flashed in the air, and suddenly, there was a knife pressed to Al's throat. The man growled, his fowl alcoholic breath filling the air. "I'll take it in blood or in gold."

Finch stood still as Albert looked at him, skin tingling as his collar was removed. He put a hand to his throat, letting out a heavy breath. He was free. He'd been given a chance. Was this a test? His eyes never left Al's. He heard heavy footfalls, and turned abruptly, letting out a small cry as he saw the man. Finch could feel a bit of his old fire returning to him as he opened his mouth and heard the smallest hum escape him. He was back. He looked at the scene before him, completely unfazed as the man held a knife to Albert's throat, though there was a sharp thrill of anger that rushed through him, as he heard his words. How  _ dare _ this man try to take what wasn't his? Finch let out an elated laugh. He was powerful. He was unstoppable. He stepped swiftly forward, hips swaying, an oh-so-gentle hand resting on the man's shoulder. "Darling~" He crooned, flashing him a dazzling smile. His beauty and voice worked hand-in-hand as he turned the man's attention from harming Albert and fully onto him. Once their eyes were locked, he began to hum, his spirits rising with every perfect note he hit. He directed every note at the despicable man, unable, it seemed, to stop smiling. He let his humming drift into a quiet song--his favorite. Rising and falling tones, melodies interwoven between indecipherable words. A single tear fell as Finch sang. This is what he'd dreamed of doing for the past handful of days. After probably too long, he let the melody fade away and cupped the man's cheeks between his slender hands. "It is not your place to demand recompense from someone who has done you no wrong." He said sweetly, gazing lovingly into his eyes. "In fact, you are indebted to  _ me. _ " He smiled, euphoric, and spoke in a deadly whisper, one hand trailing down to caress his chest. "But... I have no use for gold, dearest one. I'll take it in blood."

The man nodded, eyes locked on the siren. Finch pressed them a little closer, and the man slowly brought up his knife, stopping to rest it at his own neck, poised perfectly to slash it. Finch could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his hands beginning to tremble.

Al watched the events unfold before him in wonderment, absorbing the song. Finch had said that his song only affected who he sang it to, but Albert surely felt...  _ Something. _ Then he saw the man raise the knife and his wonder turned to horror. "Finch, stop!" He choked out. His eyes were wide in fear. Finch had gone so quickly from someone sweet and kind to something utterly terrifying. He didn't care, honestly, if the drunk lived or died. But he couldn't watch another moment of Finch like  _ this. _

Finch whipped around, stumbling back from the man. He'd honestly forgotten Al had been there. The look in his eyes chilled his blood, and he lost his balance, tripping over his own feet and falling roughly to the ground. The pain of the gravel in his hands brought him back to himself, and he blinked up at the man. " _ Lower _ your hands," He commanded, his voice breaking as he looked up at him. The man did so, and dropped the knife. "I want you to leave. If you see us at any point in the future, you're going to disregard us." He looked up at Al, heart pounding for an entirely different reason, now. Fear.

Albert just stared at Finch while the man walked away from them, looking dazed. His lips were parted in stunned fear, and he couldn't bring himself to speak. Was he right, about Finch? Was he just a monster hungry for the kill? No, that couldn't be true. He didn't want it to be true.

Finch held his gaze, touching his neck gingerly. "I'm sorry," He whispered, a tear running down his cheek. "He was going to hurt you, I stopped him, I--" _Why would that matter to you?_ His brain reprimanded him. _The collar was off. You were free. You could have left him to die, made a life here. Why didn't you?_ _Because Albert was in danger._ He reached out, for the collar once more. "Put it back on," He pleaded. "Albert, please. You've heard my song, I'm not a monster, I promise, I swear, I'm not--"

He stumbled back as Finch reached towards him. Al's instincts told him to run. Gather his men, get to the ship, before the siren could destroy them. His heart felt differently. Al took a deep breath and moved forwards, so slowly. "Please," he muttered. "Don't... Attack. I'm not going to hurt you." He carefully placed the collar around Finch's neck and stepped back again. There was still a tenseness in his shoulders and a touch of fear in his eyes. "I'll take it off again when we find you someplace to stay," he offered weakly. "But until then... I'd feel safer if..." He trailed off.

"I'm not going to hurt you," He said brokenly, on the verge of tears. But he hung his head, standing with a struggle and nodding, feverishly. "I understand. I understand, of  _ course _ I understand." He took a small step forward. "I didn't want him to hurt you."  _ And I've not the faintest idea why. And that scares me. _ "I was trying to protect you in the only way I know how." His voice was barely a whisper. He couldn't look at Albert, so, so ashamed of himself. Suddenly, he was glad not to have his voice.

"I know," Al muttered, trying to shake off the feelings of hesitation and nerves. He looked up and saw the glistening in Finch's eyes, and he couldn't stand it. It overwhelmed whatever fear he felt, and he swept forwards and pulled Finch against his chest, holding him tight. "Thank you," he whispered, lips in Finch's curls. "I'm glad you're okay."

Albert's sudden movement startled him, but Finch tried not to flinch too badly, trying to breathe slowly, in and out as Al wrapped him up in a hug. He was tentative at first, but soon returned it, hugging him tightly. He wanted to tell him that there was no reason Albert should be thankful he was okay, and that he hadn't been in any danger in the first place, but refrained, simply holding to him. "I'm glad that  _ you _ are okay," He said softly, not looking at him. He didn't want to let go, so he chose not to, still trying to breathe. "Can we go back to the ship?" He eventually asked,  _ finally _ looking up at Albert. His eyes were still watery, but no tears had spilled. "I'd like nothing else but to remove this damned shirt."

Al let out the softest half-laugh and, on a whim, stroked a hand through the side of Finch's hair.  _ He won't hurt me. He can't, but he wouldn't. I need to believe that. Why do I need to believe that? _ "Of course, let's return and get you comfortable." They walked silently through the town and back to the ship, where Al led Finch past the curious eyes of the men and back into his quarters. He sat heavily on the bed and sighed. "I wanted very much for today to be a  _ good _ experience for you. I'm sorry it ended the way it did."

The hand in his hair was more comforting that Finch cared to admit. He followed Al, not risking side-glances to the other men, and the  _ moment _ they were alone, he struggled to get his shirt off. "I  _ did _ have a pleasant experience, for the most part." He flopped over onto the bed, next to Al, and a relieved sigh escaped him. He was happy to be off his feet. "Though, I do have a few questions about things I saw. May I ask them?" He was more than happy to put their experience in the past, where it belonged.

Al smiled down at him and ruffled his hair playfully. Now that he'd indulged himself in touching those soft curls, he couldn't stop himself. "Ask them, I'll do my best to answer."

Finch looked up at him with a small happy smile, humming softly as the hand returned to touch his hair. "One, do you happen to have any more of that, mmm, wine? It was very good, and I would like some more." He shifted, moving a bit closer to Al. "Second," He held up two fingers, a playful little smile on his face, "Those movements that everyone did, after the music started, in the place of wine. What was that?"

Al couldn't help but giggle softly. "I'll have the men get some wine to keep on the ship for as long as you're with us. As for the movements..." He grinned. "That's called dancing. You move your body to music, let it take you wherever it leads. It's quite enjoyable."

Finch seemed to recognize his definition, and sat up, nodding. "We do that! We call it... something different, and it looks different, but... we do the same thing!" He looked nervous, but turned his innocent eyes to Albert, biting his lip slightly. "It looked... very enjoyable. Would you--would you be willing to maybe.... teach me how to do dancing?"

Al's expression brightened considerably at the request, and he stood up and walked across to an old dresser. He pulled out a little, beaten up music box and wound it round, sitting it atop the dresser to play. It had a missing note in the middle, but the tune was pretty nonetheless. Soft, sweet. Al extended his hand to Finch and smiled. "I'd be honored to dance with you."

He watched him go, and looked puzzled at the music box, but didn't question it. Finch simply had to get used to the fact that there would be things he didn't understand, in this new world outside of the water. He stood, more confident that the previous times, and smiled at him, stepping forward and taking his hand, uncertain about what was to happen. "It's a pleasure to...  _ dance _ with you, as well."

Al tugged Finch closer and pulled his arms up around Al's shoulders, then held him loosely around the waist. The sensation of skin against skin sent tingles through him which he tried to disregard. His face was  _ very _ close to Finch's like this, and he blinked down at him shyly before remembering to speak. "First, just sway with me. Let the music move through your body. Feel the rhythm in your bones."

Finch watched him as if he were hypnotized, letting Al drag him forward and his hands up to his shoulders. He didn't really understand any of what Al said about 'feeling the rhythm in his bones', but he pictured the swaying kelp forest back home. How it danced with the waves. He could do that. He stepped up a little closer, beginning to slowly dance with him. "Am I doing it?" He breathed, noting just how close they were. Did everyone dance this close?

"You're doing beautifully," Al breathed. He pulled him just a bit closer, because how could he resist, and began to move his feet carefully. "Just follow my footsteps, now. I'll not let you fall." His breath hitched as his eyes met Finch's again. So close. So deeply grey-blue, like the sea itself.

He could barely get a breath in, when Al called him beautiful. Yes, technically he hadn't called him beautiful directly, but Finch didn't care. He'd said the word, like he did, looking at him with such an intense look that Finch had been swept off his feet. Not really, though. Albert wouldn't let him fall. He broke their stare to glance down at their feet, moving his to follow Albert's, but once he got the hang of it, their eyes locked once more. "I'm dancing," He said, his voice as soft as a cloud. "We're dancing together, Albert."

"You're dancing, darling," Albert said with a joyful laugh. He swept Finch, quite literally now, off his feet and twirled him around before setting him back down. "You're dancing with me... what a lucky fool I am."

Finch gasped, an overwhelmed and overjoyed smile adorning his face. "He considers himself lucky... to be dancing with me*. The strangest thought came into his head. He felt heat rushing to his face, and he found himself speaking, before he really knew what he wanted to say. "Do you remember at the pub, when--when you told me the proper way to...." He couldn't finish that sentence, blushing like mad, though his feet still carried them as they danced. "Well... I would.consider it the greatest of honors to--to claim that I was granted even a single kiss f-from your lips."

Al's stopped in his chest, and he nearly tripped over his own feet in the shock.  _ He wants to kiss me? The most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on, and he wants to kiss me? _ His voice was so soft as he leaned in close, nearly touching. "Are you certain?"

They were so close, Finch almost couldn't stand it. But Al had told him how to properly ask someone to kiss him, and he wasn't going to act like that man. "I... think I am, yes." He whispered, unblinking. He'd never kissed anyone like this before. He'd kissed countless men, though they were all for lust and death. This felt different. "I... I will gladly settle for this, if you prefer." He quoted, " _ Dancing _ , I mean."

Al smiled gently, his joy overflowing. This was what he had wanted all day, but hadn't dared to admit it to himself. He gently pressed his lips to Finch's in the sweetest, most innocent of kisses. He lingered there for a long moment, bringing up a hand to tenderly stroke Finch's cheek.

Finch closed his eyes automatically tilting his head up to meet him. It wasn't deep, there was no lust beneath it. Not yet, at least. It was just a simple kiss. It confused him. All men had kissed him as a means to get further, though they died before they could. This was different. As Albert broke away, Finch followed for a quick half step, before opening his eyes. He was smiling, a tiny satisfied smile. "That's... different from what I was expecting."

Al blinked, suddenly nervous as a little child, not with the swagger befitting a pirate captain. "W-what were you expecting?" He asked quietly. "Was that... Good?"

Finch just gazed at him, before moving forward to kiss him  _ hard _ but quick, pulling away. "That's what I was expecting." He admitted, looking down. "That's all I've known. I've always... done it that way." he was quiet, still so so close to Al. "But... I like the way you kiss me. Will you... will you do it again?"

Al's nerves melted away now, and he gave Finch the easiest smile. "I'll kiss you as often as you like," he promised. He tightened one arm around his waist and kept the other cupping his cheek pulling him in for another. His lips moved gently against Finch's, smiling into the kiss. He kissed him like the kiss itself was all that mattered, because it was.

"You promise?" He asked, but was swept up into another kiss, giggling lightly. I guess that means yes. Albert's lips felt like everything he never knew he needed, and he felt himself press impossibly closer. "I still want to dance," He murmured, his arm securing itself around Al's neck. "Just--this, too."

"We can dance and kiss while the day passes us by," Albert murmured, gently twirling Finch out and then back, catching him happily in his arms and kissing his forehead. "I can think of no place I'd rather be."

Finch blinked, a tiny yelp escaping as Al twirled him. "Where did you learn to dance?" He asked, happy that he now had an excuse to get close to him. And  _ boy _ he did, scooting right up close until there was absolutely no room for Jesus. "You dance... very nicely."

"My mother taught me," he answered with a little smile,"when I was just a boy. She was an aristocrat who married my father, a poor sailor, and never looked back."

"You knew your mother?" He asked, surprised. "Does every human have a mother as a prominent figure in their lives?" He looked intrigued. His mother had left when he was very young. Finch had just assumed it was normal.

Albert was taken aback by the question. He blinked at him a few times, then nodded to the music box. "That was hers. My mother raised us, took care of us every day of our lives until her death. This is the case for most humans. Fathers work, mothers give care."

Finch's lips parted, looking into his eyes. "Humans are... so strange," He concluded, laughing lightly. "Our mothers usually leave as soon as offspring are produced. I never knew the woman who gave me life." He stopped, thinking. "My father taught me everything I know."

Al looked thoughtful for a moment, then quietly said, "I'm sorry. My mother was the most important person in my life. In many ways, she is who I am. I'm sorry you never had the chance to meet yours."

He laughed, softly. "You don't need to apologize. What do you humans say? Ignorance is pleasure, right?" He shrugged, "Can't mourn what I never had." They'd stopped dancing now, though Finch barely noticed. Finch's hands were still on his shoulders, and Al's hands on Finch's waist. They stood close, Finch looking up at him with almost a  _ loving _ expression. He didn't know quite what to say now, so he just settled with a, "Would you mind if I kissed you, again?"

Al couldn't imagine not having a mother. Johanna had been his whole world, he still missed her every day. But there was a cute boy asking to kiss him. "I'd mind if you didn't," Al teased, leaning close, but not quite yet touching his lips.

It took Finch a small moment to realize what that meant, before chuckling lightly, leaning up to close the distance, meeting his lips in a sweet kiss. "Why bother moving so close if you aren't going to seal the deal?" He pouted, after he'd pulled away. He remained close lips slightly parted. "Not that I am complaining in the  _ slightest _ ." Kissing someone just for the experience of kissing them was still a strange feeling for Finch, but he did his best to get used to it, stepping a little closer to him.

"Because I like it when  _ you _ kiss  _ me _ ..." Al admitted sweetly, beginning to sway him slowly again, though the music had long stopped. "I enjoy knowing someone so breathtakingly beautiful is choosing to kiss me..."

He blushed lightly, smiling as he looked down at their feet before bringing his gaze back up. " _ You _ enjoy it? Imagine how I feel." He bit his lip, kissing him once again, moving forward. "Your lips feel better than all I've had before," He whispered, grinning happily.

"Your lips are heaven on earth," Al murmured back, claiming them once again. "But surely mine can't compare to the lifetime of beautiful people you've kissed."

Finch didn't even think twice, shaking his head. "I kill those I kiss. None have been genuine." He couldn't get enough of his lips, going at it again and again, getting a tiny bit more insistent with each one. "This is the first time anyone has kissed me of their own free will." It was a shameful confession, and he averted his eyes, ceasing kissing him for a moment.

Albert brought up a hand to cradle his cheek and coax his eyes back to him. "Do not ever feel shame for the things you did to survive. Life is brief enough, and we haven't the time for such guilt. We must simply keep surviving, and doing the best we can."

He let out a small breath, looking up at him with a starstruck expression. "You mean that? You really do?"

Albert nodded and stroked his thumb along Finch's cheekbone. "I mean it. I know the things I said to you. They were needlessly cruel. I was trying to justify what I was doing to you. It was wrong, and I'm sorry. I was just trying to-" He looked away, his thoughts leaving Finch and this ship for the moment, his heart falling. "I just wanted to save my brother."  _ And now I can't. _ Tears sprung to his eyes.

Finch's face fell as well, as he saw the tears, and brought his face back towards him, pressing the softest kiss to his cheek. "I forgive you for your words." His throat tightened. "I wish I could—do something. To help you, I mean." His heart grew heavy, but his eyes stayed trained on him. "I'm... so sorry..."

Albert just shook his head and pulled Finch closer, clutching him in a desperate hug, burying his face in his hair. "It's not your fault," he muttered weakly. "Thank you, for bringing me some small amount of happiness... for helping me forget for a little while."

Finch didn't reply, not at first, simply feeling Al breathe against him. Then finally, a small, "You're welcome," Barely audible. Barely there. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply, taking in his smell. It was comforting. "I'd do it anytime."

"I wonder..." Al whispered, voice trembling, "if you would do me a favor. It is not a small thing, and I hesitate to ask it of you..."

Finch looked up, nodding feverishly. "Ask me, Albert. I'll do it, I promise. I swear."

Al looked at him and smiled softly, thought still with that edge of sadness. "Don't make promises before you know what it is you're promising," he warned. He took a breath. "I wonder if you would... Spend the night here, with me... In my bed. Just sleep next to me, so I don't have to be alone."

His smile grew, and he nodded again, pressing another kiss to his cheek. "Of course I will!" Though he did have a slight itch to return to the tank, and he hadn't the faintest idea why. "I will, I would be happy to. Your... your bed is very soft, and I'd very much take pleasure from feeling you both."

Al laughed aloud at his strange wording, and kissed the tip of Finch’s nose. "I'll enjoy it, as well. It's settled then, you'll sleep here with me tonight. The men won't say a word, so don't fret about that."

Finch laughed, and cast his gaze down for a moment. "I hadn't even cast them a second thought, since seeing you." See, he could be cute and romantic with his words.

Al turned pink at his words, and couldn't keep from smiling. "I'm afraid I'm not much to look at, where as you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."

Finch sputtered, stopping in his tracks. "That's not even the slightest bit true! You're very much to look at!! In fact, I don't know if I ever want to stop."

Al's blush only deepened, and he pulled Finch even closer. "Perhaps you don't have to stop..." He muttered, then bit his lip. He considered taking back his words, but he didn't want to. "Perhaps... Instead of dropping you at a decent port... You might consider staying aboard with m- with us." He fumbled through his words, but he meant them, despite how quickly this was all happening.

He looked at him with wide eyes. "I... would not mind that at all. Would... would I be accepted here?" He couldn't deny, the thought of being dropped off at an unfamiliar port was terrifying- there was still so much he did not know. But... staying on Al's ship would ensure him a safe life, with these new legs.

Al nodded softly. "They will accept you because I want you by my side. My men will respect my choice of... Company." He smiled shyly. He was trying so hard to avoid romantic connotations, in case kissing was as far as Finch wanted this to go.

Finch looked stunned, and a tiny blush spread across his face. "Then I shall stay." He leaned up, capturing his lips, pressing their bodies flush. "For you, I shall stay." He beamed. In truth, Finch didn't know what he wanted. He liked kissing Albert, and he liked the feeling of Al against him. But he'd never gone further. He'd never known to. But he would follow where Albert led, so...

Al gently stroked his fingers through Finch's hair and sighed, more lust bubbling up in him than he wanted to admit to. "On a different night, I should very much like to give you all that I am... If you would want that. But now you're staying, we've no reason to rush. For tonight, just grant me the privilege of lying next to you and holding you in my arms."

Finch flushed at his words, glancing up at him. "I would.. very much want that, I think." He murmured, nodding. "But... tonight I am content to let you hold me in your arms, as you put it." He looked towards the bed. "Would you like to do so now?"

"Very much," Al answered with a soft smile. He stripped off his shirt and kicked off his boots as he made his way to the bed. He lay down and got comfortable, arms wide and awaiting Finch.

Finch flushed as soon as he lay eyes on Albert, shyly removing his shoes and sliding into the mattress, sighing contentedly as he made contact. "I love... touching you." He laughed, softly. "That sounds strange, and I apologize for it, but... it's true."

Al wrapped one arm around him, bringing the other up to tenderly trail his fingertips down Finch's chest. He delighted in the very feeling of him, and in the paths he traced between his freckles. "You're beautiful," he murmured weakly. "I keep saying it... But nothing has ever been so true."

He shifted closer yet again, tangling their legs together, wincing very slightly as his legs stung for a quick second. The pain quickly faded, and he looked up at him, through his lashes. "I'll never get tired of hearing your voice," He whispered, pressing a sweet little kiss to his lips. "And that's an oath."

"Never is a long time, little lovebird..." Al whispered back. "I won't hold you to it." He kissed Finch deeply and tenderly, then sighed in satisfaction. "Now, try to get some rest. You've had many new experiences today."

## 

\--- 

He didn't know what time of day it was, when he woke up. All he knew was that something was wrong. His legs were burning, like they had a few nights ago. Not enough to make him scream out as he had before, but definitely too painful to ignore. The rough dry cotton sheets rubbing against him seemed only to make it worse, and he stopped moving, letting out a fearful noise. "Albert," He whispered, voice stricken. "Something is wrong,  _ Albert _ , wake up--!"

Albert had taken a long time to fall asleep, at first just watching Finch. The way his eyelids fluttered as he dreamed, the way his chest rose and fell so subtly. He couldn't tear his eyes away. But once he finally fell into a slumber, it was anything but peaceful. Dreams of storms, of ships lost at sea, of hangings. He watched his brother die a thousand ways that night, it was a miracle his twisting and whimpering hadn't woken Finch. When he was finally ripped from his fitful sleep, he sat up, arms frantically reaching for Finch as his eyes searched him to try and find what was wrong. "Finch? Darling, what is it?"

Finch's chest was rising and falling rapidly as the pain seemed to heighten every time he moved. "It hurts, my legs--" He turned his frightened eyes to meet Albert's. "Like before, on the deck, my legs, Al, I don't understand what's happened," He tried to move, to shift so he could stand, but winced hard, making a pitiful noise.

Albert moved quickly, climbing over Finch and out of the bed, then scooping him up in his arms. "I've got you, it's alright." He cradled Finch tight against his chest as he carried him down the stairs and into the storage room below. He hoped this would work, take his Finch's pain away. "Breathe darling, just breathe." He slowly lowered him into the tank that still sat there, lips pressed to his hair. "How do you feel? Does it still hurt?"

Finch let out a small dry sob as Albert picked him up, putting his arms quickly around Al's neck. He closed his eyes, unsure of where they were even going until he felt himself lowered into cool water. He sighed, relieved. The water felt like aloe on a sunburn, and his whole body tingled as he sat, still breathing hard. "It--still hurts," He said, wincing as he moved. "I don't know what happened, and--" He doubled over, hugging himself tightly as his head dipped slightly into the water. "My  _ legs-- _ " There was an unbearable burning sensation that reminded him too much of his transformation the days prior. But this time, his legs felt like they were mending back together. He closed his eyes with a pained groan, a tear slipping out, before everything ended, abruptly. Where Finch's legs had rested, the saturated glimmery tail was their replacement.

"What is it, what-" Al lost his words as he looked down and saw the shimmer of scales. For a long moment, he simply stared, one arm still around Finch. Finally he pulled it away and slipped his hand into the tank, running a finger along the tail. "It came back," he muttered, blankly. "You're a mermaid again." 

_ "A mermaid for a pirate, Captain DaSilva. This is the only mercy I will offer." _

"No," he whispered, barely audible, as the full force of the implications of this development crushed his chest. 

_ No. This can't be the choice given to me. It can't be. _

He tried to blink away tears as he stumbled backwards, but this only made them fall faster. He tried to look into Finch's grey-blue eyes, but couldn't see them through the fog of tears. He just wanted to see his eyes, just wanted- 

"Captain?" He whirled around to look at Race, standing there, eyes darting between the two of them. He looked like he knew every thought going through Albert's mind. Al stared at him, shook his head softly. 

_I can't, I can't do this._ _But I can't let my brother die over someone I've known so briefly._ _But what I felt..._ _But Sean is going to die._ _We promised Momma we'd take care of each other, no matter what._

The emotion drained from Albert's voice. His tears dried even as his heart shattered. He looked directly at Race. He was empty. "Set sail for the rendezvous point. We have our mermaid." He didn't turn. He couldn't look at Finch right now. God, what he must be thinking. "Go, now," he ordered Race. "Leave us." And then they were alone again.

Finch couldn't breathe properly. He stared down at his tail, a disbelieving smile lighting up his face, but he felt Albert's hand slip from his waist, and he looked up, face falling slightly. There were tears in his eyes. His face fell to confusion, and he opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off, by a voice from the crew. He looked between Race and Albert, heart beginning to race. Everything felt cold as he heard Albert speak. He was unable to speak, unable to even move an inch, just staring at Albert, unable to breathe, even after they'd been left alone.  _ He was emotionless. There were no feeling in his words. _ Finch could recognize his tone. It was the same as when Finch would order a man into the waves with him. Cold and hard. Determined. "Wait--" It was barely a breath, but audible over the creaking and sounds of the boat. A beat. A second. A third. "Al, what are you doing?" His voice was small, confused. Afraid. He reached up a shaking hand, touching Albert's shoulder.

Al wanted to lean into the touch, but he wrenched away instead. "What I must," he muttered weakly. "Finch, I... I can't let them kill Sean. I  _ can't. _ You're the only thing that can save him."

He drew his hand back, as Albert spoke, eyes going wide. "N-no, Al, there must be another way, you--you can't do this to me."  _ He knew. He must have. He played me at my own game. He took advantage of me. Seduced me. He did what I would have done. _ "You taught me to walk," He said quietly. Everything was going far too fast. His heart, most of all. "You carried me, you danced with me, you--you  _ kissed _ me. You--" He struggled on the next word. "You  _ seduced _ me." His gaze turned from confusion, from fear, into something else. Anger. His anger quickly turned to black rage, and he ran his tongue over his teeth, barely noting their sharpness.  _ I meant nothing to him. _ Before he'd known it, he'd launched forward, trying to grab him with his newly returned webbed fingers, scrambling wildly. He screamed, a terrible, earsplitting, unearthly scream, and clawed at him. "I meant  _ nothing _ to you!!" He screamed, the water in the tank sloshing out and splashing onto the wooden deck boards. "NOTHING!!! I WAS TO BE  _ WILLINGLY LED TO MY DEATH!!!" _ Another attempt to grab at him sent the tank careening to its side, spilling its contents to the floor.

Al was wide eyed and terrified, stumbling frantically away from him to avoid teeth and nails. "No!" He yelled out. "No, that's not true!" He pressed himself into the corner, staring at Finch where he flailed on the floor. "You were  _ everything. _ You were-" he closed his eyes and shook his head. "You don't understand! This is my  _ brother _ ! It's not your death, he won't kill you, I know he won't, I won't  _ let _ him."

"You think you can  _ stop him _ , can you?" He asked darkly, breathing hard. "Tell me  _ Captain DaSilva _ , did you try to stop him from taking your damned brother? How successful was that for you?" His anger hadn't dwindled, but there was a sorrow in his eyes that he hasn't had before. A hopelessness. "I was only 'everything' to you when I was nothing to myself."  _ You fell for me the moment I became like you. _

"I'll protect you," Al tried, "I'll find a way." But his words were empty promises, and he knew it. He looked over the scene, Finch on the ground, the tank toppled but intact. "Let me help you," he whispered. "Before your legs... before it hurts again."

Finch just met his gaze, eyes steely. He shook his head, slowly. "Your words mean nothing to me." He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself of such a fact. He looked back at his tank, as the water seeping into the dank floorboards, and shook his head once more. "I want nothing from you. Nothing but my  _ freedom _ ."

Al stared at him helplessly and then sidled past him and out of the room.  _ He wants nothing from me. _ He murmured an, "I'm sorry," as he fled. On the way to his quarters he ordered Tommy and Mush, who were outside the door asking about the noise, to right the tank, refill it, and put Finch back in. "Keep watch over him, two guards at all times," he demanded. "He cannot be allowed to escape."

He made it back to his bed and sat down heavily, head in his hands. He didn't want to feel any of this. He didn't want to know the soft sweetness of Finch's lips. He didn't want to crave it so desperately. He had kissed him, let his heart open to him, and now betrayed him so absolutely. Surely if he escaped the flames of hell for every other sin he had committed in his life, this one still would damn him to eternal pain. And he would know he was right where he belonged. Where all monsters belonged.

## 

\--- 

Down here, Finch didn't know the time that had passed. He'd slept once or twice, but other than that, he sat. An idea had begun to form, though he didn't know how exactly he would execute it. No harm in trying though, right? If Albert wouldn't set him free, he would just have to free himself. He'd get this collar off, and sing this whole ship down. The collar was some metal he didn't know the name of. He toyed with it for a little bit, but it didn't budge. He turned it around. It was smooth around the whole thing, a medium sized ring attached near his throat. He loathed it. Finch stuck his finger through the ring, yanking it and almost gagging as he proceeded to choke himself. He let go, but tried again, twisting it around so if he tugged, it wouldn't restrict his airflow. He twisted the ring, his aim to pry it off, but ended up just hurting his finger. He cast a fiery glare at the two pirates sitting near the door, sinking lower into his tank and beginning to work frantically, getting more and more heated with each attempt. Each try to get the collar off worked against the tender gills lining his neck. One too many tries, and they would split, and begin to bleed. And bleed they did. Still, Finch paid it no mind, despite the fact that there was cool blood running steadily from his neck. If he could just  _ remove the collar _ , none of it would matter. It stayed fast.

Albert had been avoiding Finch. He didn't want to look into those beautiful eyes and feel the guilt, the tug the change his mind. But knowing the merman hated him was almost too painful to bear. So he decided to go down and check on him, try to ease both their troubled hearts somehow. Henry and Elmer were on guard tonight, and playing dice by the door when Al entered. He saw the blood in the water immediately and cursed them, shoving them aside and rushing to the edge of the tank. Without thinking he reached in and grasped Finch by the arms, pulling him up a bit. It was only then that he realized the source of the blood, and the cause of the wound. He looked in horror, eyes full of pain.

Finch gasped, flinching back as Albert appeared almost out of nowhere. He'd been so focused on removing the collar, he hadn't noticed him until Albert had grabbed him. Finch's fingers dropped from his neck, hissing softly as his gills stung. He looked up at Albert, expecting a blow, or some harsh words, or  _ something _ . But all he saw was pain. Unidentifiable pain. Was it for him? Was it because of him? He just stared, eyes wide, mouth closed. He was afraid. He didn't speak, he couldn't. If he spoke he knew he'd burst into tears, and he couldn't cry now That would prove him weak. Blood still trickled slowly, providing a very grim image.

"Why-" he cut himself off. He'd been going to ask why Finch would do this to himself, but he knew the answer.  _ He's desperate to escape. Of course he is. Don't be angry. I can't blame him. _ He sighed and looked back at his men. "Bring alcohol, cloths, and bandages. Now." Al released Finch and sank to the floor and they obeyed. "This is not easy for me," he whispered, desperate for Finch to understand. "My heart has never been so heavy."

Finch just looked at him, eyes big and heavy, filled with unshed tears.  _ Could it be, that this is as hard for him as it is for me? _ "You made me fall in love with you," He quietly accused, his voice raspy since his gills were injured. "I didn't want to, you made me," Tears began to slide down his cheeks, and he sunk further into the tank, all fight leaving his body. "You made me," He repeated, closing his eyes in defeat. "Just leave me like this." Finch's voice was low. "Maybe my soon-to-be master will think I'm damaged and return me to my family."

Al inhaled a sharp, painful gasp at the confession of love. His already shattered heart splintered into slivers which wriggled through his body, tearing him to shreds. "I lo-"  _ Stop. He doesn't need to hear that. _ "I loathe these circumstances," he recovered, "more than you can imagine." Elmer returned with the supplies and Al took them and waved him away. He poured some alcohol onto a cloth and stood, hovering near the wound. "This... will hurt. But it'll keep the wound from getting infected. May I... please let me help you."

Finch let out a low chuckle. "Do what you must, I cannot stop you." He waved a hand, almost lethargic, eyes opening to peer out at Albert.  _ Help me. Nothing he could possibly do would qualify as helping, since he put me into this. _ But he nodded, exposing his neck and squeezing his eyes shut, ready for the imminent pain.

Al moved the cloth against his neck, tenderly moving in the direction of the gills so as not to harm them further. He knew this had to burn, so he tried to make quick work of it before taking the bandage and wrapping it round his neck and tying it. Finally he sat back on the floor, back against the tank, and took a long swig from the bottle. "I hate this, Finch. I hate everything about this." He stared at the wall for a moment, then asked quietly, "Would you betray me to save your family? I wouldn't condemn you for it. Yet I condemn myself. I know I'll burn in hell for this." He drank again.

He sucked in a breath, though nothing had prepared him for the liquid fire that seemed to enter his bloodstream. He whimpered, tail flopping uselessly around. He'd found since Albert had placed him back in his tank that he'd began to hate his tail. What he'd once seen as his most prized and beautiful possession, he now detested. He was breathing hard as Albert begun to bandage his neck, eyes closed, tears falling. "I... could never condemn you." He whispered through gritted teeth. "And I detest myself for it." He sucked in a breath, opening his eyes and reaching a hand out for the bottle. "No one knows what the future holds," He said, taking a deep swig and ignoring the bitter flavor, before handing it back to Albert. "Who knows. Maybe my future master will be kind to me, as you are." He couldn't begin to hope.

Al closed his eyes, wishing he believed that was true. Pulitzer would surely not be a kind master. He would parade Finch around, charging a fee to see the mermaid. Maybe even sell his scales as favors. He swallowed hard. "Maybe I can get you out," he whispered. "Maybe, once the trade is complete... I can follow, I can save you from him." He didn't sound hopeful. Pulitzer was a powerful man.

"No, no,  _ stop _ ." He said harshly, sitting up, his eyes darkening. "Stop it. I don't need false hopes, Albert. Either set me free now, or sell me in exchange for your brother. There is not 'saving me' later." Al's words stung. They were a confirmation that the man he was to be sold to was not a kind one. When he spoke next, his voice was broken. "You seem so fascinated with sirens, Captain DaSilva, it's time you learn our rules. If someone interests you, take them, use them, and discard them. Do not feel for them, not pity, not sorrow," His voice caught. "Not love." Finch's slender hand came up from the tank, reaching for his hand blindly. "Misery and misfortune will befall whatever siren does not abide by those rules."

Al took Finch's hand and interlaced their fingers, holding it tightly for a moment. He wanted to turn and look into his Finch's eyes, but couldn't stand to. "Misery and misfortune have defined my existence, lovebird," he muttered. "You were the bright spot, and even that I have snuffed out." He released his hand and stood, tears already falling. He couldn't let Finch see them. He hurried to the door, but paused there. "I will make you no more promises I cannot keep. You have my word."

Finch couldn't be alone again. He knew he would have to, but  _ god _ , he didn't want to. "Albert," He pleaded, sitting up and reaching for him. " _ Wait-! _ " He was at the door. So far away. Finch had no shame in his tears, and they fell freely. "Please, come back. Just for a moment. Let me say something."

Al leaned his forehead on the door and took a long, slow breath to collect himself. He wiped his eyes discreetly and when he turned, the only sign of tears was a touch of redness in his eyes. He walked back to Finch and reached his hand towards Finch's, just stroking his trembling fingers along his palm. "Say what you must," he said, steeling himself for the worst. Whatever Finch had to say, he deserved it.

He was so close. Finch knew he might damage his neck further, but he'd lost the ability to care about anything but Albert. He sat up, with a small bit of struggle. "I know not what to say," He whispered, managing to stare into his eyes. "So I speak with my actions." Finch surged upwards, closing his eyes at the last second, and kissed him.

Al caught him in his arms, fearful that he might fall, before he even realized the goal of his movement. As Finch's lips met his, Al's arms tightened around him and his heart was soothed. Tears lept back into his eyes and he didn't try to stop them this time. He pulled away with a little gasp, looking into Finch's eyes, his own pained and confused. "I... didn't deserve that."

Albert was touching him. Albert was  _ holding _ him, so tightly, he felt like he was never going to let go. "There's a lot of things you deserve Albert, that was one of them." He said simply, meeting his eyes. "You deserve to see your brother again, as well." It hurt him, to say those words. But he knew they were true. In the end, Finch had hurt more than he'd helped on this Earth. He deserved this.

A surge of  _ something _ raged through Albert, and he found the words tumbling from his lips unbidden. "Do not spend your last days with me in this wretched tank. Finch, please... share my bed, let me hold you, dance with me, let me show you the- the affection you deserve, let me take care of you before-" He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Finch's. He couldn't go on. "I'm not worthy of what I ask, I know I have no right."

He opened his eyes, mouth agape as Albert spoke, heart daring to race. "...I will," He said softly, after a long moment of contemplation. There was nothing else he could possibly think to say. "Know that if you tire of me in the next days, you may send me back." Finch felt Al's forehead against his own, sitting up as much as he could to touch every inch of him he could reach. "I'll go willingly, if it meant I could have spent my time with you."

"I could never tired of you," Al swore, pressing his fingertips against Finch's back like he was desperate to feel him. "I could have you for a hundred years and never tired of you. As it stands, we have perhaps two days left... may they last a lifetime."  _ And then I will spend another lifetime trying to free you. I swear it. _

Finch nodded, desperate to get out of the cramped tank. "Two days, then." He said softly, giving him a sweet half-smile. "A lifetime." What a concept. A lifetime, with Albert. A man he'd known fully for about three days. His captor, and his love. His fingers on Finch's back were a welcome relief, he hadn't been touched in a few days, and sirens were physical creatures. He arched his back, drawing up closer to him, as close as he could go without falling back into the tank. "I'd give you the world, if I could." He murmured, trying to capture his lips once more.

"I would give you the world," Albert echoed, kissing him tenderly. He moved his lips to Finch's face, neck, and shoulders. "I would sail you to every corner of this Earth, show you all the wonders and beauties there are to see. I'm a foolish man, Finch, and I fell far too quickly for you. I-" He stopped, eyes closed, lips on Finch's collarbone. "I want so badly to say the words, but I fear that if I do, I'll never have the strength to let you go."

Finch's eyes were closed, a breath caught in his throat at Albert's wandering lips. "Don't say them," He breathed, going still. "You need to let me go, Albert. For your brother." He brought a hand up to his cheek, cupping it lovingly and bringing his face to his. "Two days, remember. That's as long as this can last." Finch gave him a little smile. "Make the most of it, and then continue on to your next stage of life. Like two ships, passing in the night."

"Two days," Al agreed, his heart soaring and breaking at once. "And I will survive on their memory as long as I breathe." He looked down at the tank, blinking away tears. "I want you out of this awful thing," he whispered. "But I'm afraid to hurt you. Do you think you can manage the trip to my quarters, if I carry you?"

"I can manage," Finch nodded earnestly, reaching out for him. "I've been through worse, I promise you. Nothing you can do to me will hurt me, I swear." The problem wasn't in Albert carrying him, but what would happen afterwards, once he was dry. He'd done it only once, and it was the most painful thing he'd encountered.

"Wait here a moment," Al said, as an idea struck him. He lowered Finch back into the water and bolted from the room. A few short minutes later he had returned with a thin blanket damp with sea water. He wrung it out a few more times so it wasn't dripping and spread it out on the floor. Albert scooped Finch gently from the tank and laid him on the blanket, then wrapped it around his fin and torso and lifted him into his arms again. "I think... I  _ hope _ this will ease the transition."

For once, Finch didn't doubt for a single second that Albert would return, and eagerly awaited for him to, nodding along as he saw the damp blankets. "You're too kind to me," He whispered as Al picked him up, laying him down upon the blankets. "Don't get your bed wet because of me, please." He wasn't sure exactly how long it would take, but it'd taken only about 3 minutes, the last time. His heart began to pick up speed.

"As you wish," Albert said softly. He carried Finch above onto the deck, where the crew members politely hid their surprise at the sight. Albert sat heavily against the wall of his cabin, out in the golden light of the setting sun, Finch in his arms cradled against his chest. Al hummed softly as he waited, hoping Finch wouldn't be in as much pain as last time.

He began to feel it once more, the pins and needles in his legs, turning to tiny knives stabbing into him, splitting him open. His arms tightened around Albert and he let out a small whimper, clenching his teeth. He only cried out once, though his breathing was labored thought the whole process. Eventually, Finch sagged into him, eyes closed, breathing hard. In place of his tail now were two legs. He was, of course, naked yet again, though wrapped up in the damp blanket, everything was covered. "It's done," Finch whispered against him, arms still clutched around Albert's shoulders. "I'm yours."

Al stroked his back through the process, trying to offer him some kind of comfort. He rested his lips on Finch's head and kept humming softly. At his words, Al drew back and looked at him, puzzled. "Were you not mine before?" A realization washed over him and he looked so sad. "...you believe that my heart is only yours if you look human."

Finch looked puzzled, though he didn't change his position, still holding him tightly. "Is that not the truth? What use am I, if I'm not up,and walking, like you are?"

Al shook his head softly. "I care not for your usefulness. And your beauty, though boundless, is of little consequence either. Legs or fin, you hold my heart in your hands. I would swim the seas with you given the chance."

Albert had stolen his song, his heart, and now his tongue away from him. Drawn completely speechless, Finch reached up to touch his face, brushing his hair away, running a finger down his cheek. He leaned forward, kissing him deeply. "You speak like no one I've ever known," He whispered, finally able to get a few words out. "Though you hold more than just my heart."

Al blushed heavily as the men watched the kiss from the corners of their eyes, some grinning and elbowing one another playfully, but none daring to comment. "I'm a lucky fool, to be so loved," he whispered. "Would you like to retire to my room, or watch the sun set?"

"As am I." Finch whispered. He looked away, up at the setting sun, and sighed happily. "I'm perfectly content to watch the sun set here," He said, glancing around at the men and giving them quizzical looks, as if daring them to say something. He kissed Albert again. These two days belonged to  _ him _ , and he chose to do whatever he pleased with them. "Once the sun dips below the horizon I'll be happy to lie with you."

Al was more than happy to sit with his Finch, his beloved, and watch the sun sink into the water. The men moved around them, adjusting the rigging and repairing things here and there. Al hummed a love song and ran his fingertips along Finch's bare shoulders. He soaked in this moment, committing it to memory.

Finch was doing the same, looking all around them, trying to memorize as much as he could. His neck didn't hurt anymore, and he shifted against Al, resting his head on his chest, closing his eyes as Albert's fingers relaxed and calmed him. This was love. He'd never been in love before, but he just knew. He would never experience this again. He wished for a split second that Albert could hear  _ him _ sing a love song, but knew he couldn't ask. They sat, watching until the sun hung low in the sky, disappearing after a long while. The sun was gone, and so was the heat. Finch shivered, much colder in this form than as a siren, and pressed close up against Albert. "May we retire now?" He asked, not wanting Albert to stop singing. "I find myself growing a bit cold."

"Of course, darling," Al murmured, kissing his face several times. He got to his feet without letting go of Finch, and nudged open his door with his boot. Inside, he tossed the blanket away and laid Finch on his bed. He stripped his own shirt off and climbed in next to him, pressing himself close to warm them both. He gently stroked Finch's cheek and smiled easily. "You are the most lovely thing I've ever seen... Your heart is as beautiful and vast as the sea herself."

Finch's smile was serene, enchanted, in love. He felt a bit exposed as the blanket was tossed away, but... it was only Albert. He was never ashamed with Albert. Soon, he'd climbed into bed with him, and Finch had one hand around his waist, the other pressed against his chest. "You'll make me blush, darling," He said, leaning in to kiss him, thankful they now had the privacy of the captain's quarters. "All that you've said could easily be turned and spoken to  _ you _ , if I'm honest."

Al gazed back at him, overcome with more love than he'd ever felt in his life. If he was going to have two days with Finch, he was going to pour his entire self into this. "I..." He struggled for words. "I want to bare my soul to you," he whispered, moving his hands along Finch's chest. "I want to give you all I have to give. I want to taste your skin and hear rapture on your tongue." He breathed to try and calm himself, but it was no use. "I would be honored just to kiss your lips once more, but darling... I would give you everything if you only ask it."

The hand along his chest sent a pleasant buzz through Finch, and he regarded Albert's words with doe eyes. He barely knew what any of it meant, but he had a feeling he knew what Albert was asking. "You wish to... bare yourself to me... fully?" He asked, eyes bright and wide. "That is what you mean, correct?"  _ He wishes to give me everything. Could he mean consummation of our relationship? Is that possible? _

Albert bit his lip, suddenly and inexplicably feeling deeply shy. Finch's innocence only made him more afraid, but he dove in to kiss him and the kiss restored his courage. "Yes. I wish to make love to you, if that is your wish as well."

Finch kissed back, with vigor, but broke away, listening to him speak and regarding him with wide eyes. He was not surprised, though a little afraid. "I... think I would like that very much," He said softly, bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek.  _ Two days. _ "I'm afraid I'm not as well-versed in the art of human intercourse as I am in other things." A light blush dusted his cheeks, but he didn't look away from Albert. "Will it hurt?"

"Well, I- it-" Albert sputtered helplessly for a second, surprised by the honest question, and struggling for the right words to explain it. He took a breath and righted himself, then spoke. "Not if you don't want it to. It will hurt, a bit, for one of us. Less so with much patience and care given. But you don't have to... I would not mind submitting to you." His face was crimson at this point.

He looked a little embarrassed at Albert's fluster, but smiled nonetheless. "I don't know quite what I'm doing, my love. If you were to submit under me... you would have to guide me through everything." He looked down, clearly frustrated with his lack of experience. "Though I would do whatever needed to fulfill any desires you may have."

"My only desire is your pleasure and happiness," Al swore, taking Finch's hand and kissing it lightly. "I'll guide you, if that's what you wish. There's nothing to fear, dear one, I'll hold you through every moment."

Finch felt like he could combust at Albert's sweet kiss and even sweeter words. "Then," He whispered, a smile touching his lips, "Then I consent. Please, if you'll have me." Finch knew he would.

Albert caressed his face gently and kissed his lips again, knowing he could never get quite enough.  _ Two days. Make it worthwhile. _ He deepened the kiss, one hand moving to the small of Finch's back to press him closer. His thoughts were consumed with ways to bring Finch pleasure, ways to make him forget the fate that awaited him so that all he could feel was joy.

He let his eyes slip closed with the kiss. Two days. He could enjoy this for two days, and then he'd be resigned to just imagine it. Finch felt Albert press at his back and he responded, arching his back to bring them closer. Albert would take care of him, he knew this as a deep truth.

## 

\---

Finch fell more deeply in love with Albert over the course of the next day. The gills on his neck healed fast, and the bandages were able to be removed. During their intimate time, Finch had requested Albert leave his skin blemish-free, so it wouldn't decrease his value for the man they would be meeting. He looked at his tail, alone in his tank, and sighed. He couldn't cry. He hadn't cried in a long time. Besides, he knew he deserved this. Albert would be seeing his brother again, and Finch knew he would do the exact same if the situation was flipped. He found he hadn't liked goodbyes, and had refused to even say the words to Albert. He'd woken up in the early morning of the third day, and kissed Al, and went quietly down to his tank, and sat, enduring the pain of his tail returning, and waited for the inevitability of his fate.

Two days went by far too quickly. Albert tried to revel in it, spending every single moment at Finch’s side. He kept the merman with him while they ate, while he commanded the men, while he inspected and steered the ship. He couldn’t bear to have him leave his eyesight, even for an instant. He wondered, achingly, if a day would come that he couldn’t remember that face. Worse, that one would come where he’d have to pay in gold to see it again. 

This image plagued his dreams. His Finch, his love - for he could no longer deny that to himself, though he still couldn’t say the words - locked in a tiny tank. Skinny and half-starved, eyes empty, flipping his tail for onlookers who paid extra to have a scale painfully pried from his flesh and strung onto a necklace. 

The day came, though Albert had prayed somehow it wouldn’t. They dropped anchor near a little desert island where the Commandant had said they should meet. Albert was in his quarters alone, lamenting the coming events, when Race entered to announce the navy ship had arrived. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and take on a more captainly demeanor as the men set up a plank between the two ships. Commandant Pulitzer stood on the deck of his ship, looking smug. Albert’s stomach turned at the knowledge that Finch would see that look every day for the rest of his life.

_I can’t do this._ _I have no choice._

Albert crossed over to the navy ship and nodded at Pulitzer. “I brought you the promised price.” 

Pulitzer brushed off his coat and grinned. “I admit I had my doubts about you, DaSilva. I’m impressed that you’ve come through. Where is the creature?” 

Albert swallowed hard.  _ The creature. He’s more than that, you monster. No, focus. Focus. _ “I wish to see my brother first,” he said firmly. “I must speak with him privately, to know he is well and has been treated fairly.” 

Pulitzer looked amused and stifled a laugh, but nodded. “You hold no cards here, Captain. I get my prize, or your brother hangs. But… I’m a generous man. I’ll allow… a brief meeting. Go on now, he awaits you below deck.” 

\---

Below deck, Albert nearly threw up as he walked past a tank of water with a lid and a padlock. He hurried past it to the little cage where his brother kneeled, hands chained to the bars so he could barely move. He looked weak, sickly, but not injured. 

Al fell to his knees before him and clutched his hands, tears falling freely from his eyes. “Sean,” he gasped out. “Sean I’ve come for you. I promised you I would, and I’m here.” 

Green eyes looked up at him from under auburn lashes, and a weak smile spread over cracked, dry lips. “Al... Albie, it’s really you.” 

For awhile, they simply cried together, Al holding his older brother’s bound hands. Al’s tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and stinging, and a little sob of pain escaped him. 

Sean looked up in confusion, his eyes full of nothing but concern for his brother, in spite of his own condition. “Those aren’t tears of relief, or joy… Albert, what is troubling you?” 

“It’s nothing,” Al insisted, squeezing his hands. “I’m happy.”

“You’re… not,” Sean said slowly, shaking his head. “You must tell me what’s wrong. Albert, what-” his eyes lit with realization. “My God, what did you trade for my freedom?” 

“Nothing of any consequence,” Albert lied, and it pained him to say it. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Sean said harshly, devolving into a fit of coughs. “Albert, tell me. Please.” 

Albert opened his mouth and closed it again, the words refusing to come out. After several moments he managed to stutter out a few sounds, and then the whole story tumbled out after. He told Sean of capturing Finch, of his legs, of their love, and Finch’s fate. Sean absorbed most of this with a broken hearted expression, but when Albert was done, he only looked determined. Strong, somehow. 

“Albert, look at me,” he commanded, and his brother obeyed through tearful eyes. “Go back to your ship. Take your love and leave this place.” 

Al’s heart dropped, and he stared at Sean in horror, shaking his head. “N-no. Sean, I can’t. I have to protect you, I must-”

“I’m the elder brother,” Sean interrupted, voice sadly affectionate. “It’s my job to protect  _ you. _ I won’t allow you to save me at the cost of your soul.” He managed to slide his hands up the bars, bringing two fingers to touch his brother’s cheek lovingly. “I do not fear death, Albert, not as much as I fear you losing yourself. Either go to him, or put your pistol to my head and end me now. I’ll not live a day at the cost of your happiness.” 

“Sean…” his voice broke, a sob leaving his body. 

“Go now,” Sean ordered. “Go, before the chance is lost. And remember, always remember how much I love you.” 

\---

With Sean’s blessing, the deepest, most ashamed desires of Albert’s heart were confirmed. He wanted to save Finch, he always had. It was an impossible choice. But Sean had freed him from it. Certainly he was not absolved of guilt, but… the choice was now made. When Albert emerged into the sunlight, he was horrified to see that Pulitzer had already crossed over to his ship and was talking with his men. Al moved quickly, slipping around behind him unseen, ignoring the questioning looks of his crew as he snuck below deck. He threw open the door to the storage room and wasted no time rushing to Finch’s side. He took his face in his hands and kissed him, hard and desperate, his tears falling between their lips. When he drew back, breathing hard, he just looked into his eyes and tried to memorize them. “I love you.”

Finch tried to calm his rapid heart. He could hear shouts above deck, walking above him. His hand shook, as much as he wished they wouldn't. He was frightened, so frightened.  _ It's for his brother. You love him. But he loves his brother. Family is more important. _ He felt sick with nerves, praying that he could regain a bit of confidence. He could hear heavy footfalls outside the door, before it was thrown open, and Finch closed his eyes, flinching, ready for the worse. But then someone was touching his face, bringing him up. Albert was there, kissing him hard.  _ He must be here to say goodbye. _ But the words that left Albert's mouth were  _ not _ goodbyes, nor wishes or farewell. The words made his heart shrivel and crack, and a rush of tears flooded his eyes. " _ I told you not to say those words, _ " He whispered fiercely, distancing himself as much as he could in the small tank. Albert had just made things one hundred times worse. "I told you, Albert, I told you..." Finch closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He couldn't let this go on. "Your brother, Albert..."

"I  _ love _ you," Albert repeated, the words unburdening his heart and making his decision all the more clear. "I will love you every moment until the day I die. Misery and misfortune have been my companions all my life, but as long as I breathe, they will not have you." With that, he took the collar in his hands and pulled it loose, throwing it to the floor. "The commandant is above. He will find you if you stay, we must get you off the ship."

He flinched with every confession of love, more tears streaming down his face until they were indecipherable with the water. "Albert—" He let out a strangled gasp as Al seized his neck, closing his eyes, so afraid and completely unsure of anything going on. He touched his neck, another tear trickling down his cheek as he stopped fully in his tracks, looking at Albert as if he was crazy. Then he spoke. His voice held a more lilting tune, now that his song was free from the collar. He seemed almost more alluring, as well. "I'm not going to go with you, Albert." His hands were trembling, and he made a reach for the collar, as if to reattach it. "I will  _ not _ tear a family apart. I've done so too many times before, with no remorse and selfish intent, and I'll not do it a second longer." He forced his voice to try to be strong. "Go to him, and leave me here."

"I won't," Albert insisted. "I won't let them take you." He looked at Finch with determination and thrust one arm out, pointing at the exit. "Either you come with me now, or I will stand here and fight every man through that door to the death to prevent them taking you.  _ They will not have you. _ "

"They will not have  _ you _ either!" Finch shouted, in a short burst of anger. His collar was off. He could not live knowing he had torn apart yet another family. Only monsters did such a thing. He deserved whatever the commandant would do to him. He deserved this. But Albert didn't. His collar was off. He brought a shaking hand up to stroke Albert's cheek, and began to sing, softly.

"N-no," Albert muttered weakly. His eyes pleaded with Finch as he poured everything he had into resisting the beautiful song. He just wanted to float away on it's notes. "Please don't do this..."

Tears began pouring down his cheeks, and his song wavered for a moment, then became only stronger. He saw the change in Albert's eyes, and knew he had him under his spell. "Bring the commandant to me," He ordered, softly, pressing a single kiss up to his lips. "Let me go."

_ Please no, I don't want this... _ But he didn't say the words. His feet were already moving. Up on deck, he approached Pulitzer, who looked mildly alarmed at his tear-stained appearance. "Come with me," Albert muttered weakly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Your mermaid awaits."

Finch sat, ready and waiting, dunking his head under the water and scrubbing furiously at his tearstained cheeks.  _ I'm a monster. I broke up families, killing their loved ones, and for what? I deserve to die. I deserve whatever is coming to me. Albert will be happier with his brother here. _ He looked up, suddenly, brows furrowing. "I'm a monster," He repeated, quietly. "I stole mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers away from each other. Me, and... and all those like me, deserve... death."  _ No. Not me. I may have done my fair share of killing, but I refuse to do it anymore. I cannot do it to those who don't deserve it. I may have killed, but I'm getting better. There are others out there that are not. _

Albert led Pulitzer down the stairs as slowly as he could, technically obeying Finch to the letter, but resisting in the tiniest way he could. His soul ached and he wanted to scream, ' _ no, you can't have him. _ ' But he eventually had to open that door and present Finch to his new owner. Albert stepped in first, looking at his love with pained eyes, then stepped side and let Pulitzer enter. 

"Your mermaid," he said, his voice small, tone broken. "His name is Finch." 

Pulitzer looked positively gleeful. He approached the tank and almost reached for Finch before thinking better. He squinted at Finch and looked back at Al. "Does the thing bite?" 

Albert's hands turned to fists, but he just nodded.

Finch's mind was racing as he heard the footfalls from the two men descending. He'd made up his mind. There was a way to solve all of this. He straightened, making himself look as presentable as a captive could. Albert entered, but Finch didn't look at him, looking straight down at the floor. The commandant entered, and Finch looked up, feeling a strike of fear run through him. But he steeled himself, and took a small breath. "Captain DaSilva says you are to be my master," He said, looking up at him with large eyes, making sure to look frightened. It felt strange, not having the collar on. "Will you be kind to me?"

Pulitzer burst into a short, cruel laugh so the question. He didn't answer Finch, instead looking back at Albert. "It's got a personality, I'll give it that." He turned back to Finch, looking almost amused to be talking to him. As if he were talking to an animal. "You'll be fed and cared for. People will pay a fortune to watch you swim and touch your tail. You will obey me or you will suffer. That's all that need concern you."

Finch's lips twitched into the smallest smile, eyes flicking over to Albert with eyes crinkled as he let out a musical, alluring laugh. "Did you hear that?" He asked, resting his chin on his folded hands, on the top of the tank. "He thinks I'm going to obey him~!"

Albert looked to Finch now with questioning eyes.  _ What are you up to? _

Pulitzer seemed offended. He reached forward and knocked Finch's head off his hands as he grasped and jerked at his wrist, hard, and glared down at him. "You  _ will _ obey. You're my property now." 

Albert jumped forwards, his voice a growl. "Take your hands  _ off _ him." 

Pulitzer laughed again. "And why should I?"

Finch let out a hiss, but let the man take his hand. Before Albert could reach the commandant, Finch had taken Pulitzer's hand in his own and yanked him down to his level. As he wasn't in his human form, his nails were a bit longer and sharper than if he was, and he used this to his advantage, raking his nails down Pulitzer's arms and gasping quietly as the smell of blood invaded his nose. "Dear one," He hummed, whispering softly in his ear, his grip iron. "You're in no  _ position _ to be telling anyone what to do. I believe that right belongs to  _ me. _ " His voice was silky smooth, and he began to sing. One of his favorites. A love song, directed and sung straight into Pulitzer's ear.

Pulitzer squeaked in pain for a half second at the scratch, but the moment the singing began, he melted into putty in Finch's hand. His arms went limp, and he looked deeply content. 

Albert watched in confusion and hesitant hopefulness. "Finch, what...?"

Ah, everything was back to normal. Finch fell into routine too quickly. His voice was back. He had a human by the arm, under his spell. How lovely it felt to be able to weave the enchanted melodies together once more. He could tell the man's mind was weak, pliable. Compared to Albert's struggle for power, this man's mind was a cakewalk. "Darling," He whispered seductively, into Pulitzer's ear, though looking into Albert's eyes. His hopes rose with every word. He would get out of this. He and Albert could be together. There was a way. They would rescue his brother, set sail. Finch could be with him forever. He couldn't just sit and daydream of his future with Albert. Still, he had one minor obstacle in their way. His hands drifted slowly up and over Pulitzer's head, anchoring around his neck, holding him close as if we were a lover. It should be mentioned that sirens had no concept of age, it didn't matter whether the people they seduced were 19 or 90. Prey was prey. He sat up in the tank, holding the man close, and spoke softly, lovingly. "You want to please me, do you not? Earn my affections?" He waited for the man to nod enthusiastically. "I have one small thing I need you to do for me, before we can become one." His gaze flicked back to Albert, and a flicker of fear ran through his heart. He'd stopped Finch from killing once before, horrified at the very prospect. Would he do it again? Finch took the chance. "You're going to take me into your arms, bring me above deck, set me down beside you. Address your crew, publicly." His voice turned malicious, and what could only be described as a power-mad smile took over his features. He'd missed this. "Then take out your pistol, aim for your head, and pull the trigger." Finch's voice turned sweet again, and he even pressed a kiss to the man's cheek. "Only then, can we be together, my love. Wouldn't you like that?"

Albert stared on, barely believing the words as he heard them. He despised the sight of the commandant in Finch's arms, despised the way he spoke to him so lovingly. But he understood what his love was doing, and so he stood back, still and quiet.  _ That man is unworthy of Finch's voice, his touch. But he's more than worthy of the death that awaits him. _

Pulitzer, meanwhile, was swaying softly, as if dizzy, barely holding himself up as he gazed into Finch's eyes. "Oh, my love..." he murmured. "Anything for you. What would you like me to say to my crew?"

He felt ill hearing such fervent words from the commandant's lips, but Finch's loving smile grew wicked once more as the question was asked. "Tell them it's been an honor to be their captain, my darling. I want you to tell them they are released from their duties serving as your crew. That they may go home to their families, that they are free. But there's one final thing I request, before all of that. If you do this for me, I shall even grant you  _ a kiss _ ." He leaned close, whispering softly but audibly into his ear. "Order them to release all captives currently held on your vessel.  _ All _ of them. Captain DaSilva's brother, first. Can you do this for me, my angel?" He hummed a few more lilting notes into his ear. He turned his eyes on Albert, nodding his head towards the door.  _ Follow us. _ His eyes said.

Pulitzer was eager to obey, plunging his arms into the tank with no concern for his ornately decorated coat sleeves. He slipped those arms under Finch and scooped him up, holding him close. As he turned towards the door, his eyes never left Finch's. "For a kiss from your lips, I would gladly give anything..."

Albert followed as Pulitzer made his way above deck. Al's men looked on in somber disappointment and Pulitzer's cheered at the sight of the mermaid in his arms. Pulitzer carefully sat Finch on the deck beside him. The very moment he stood back up and turned to address his men, Albert rushed, falling hard to his knees, to Finch's side. He pulled him into his arms, pressing his face to Finch's shoulder. 

Pulitzer's speech was rousing and inspiring. He spoke of the time he'd spent with his men, how honored he was to have led them. He told them to return to their families now and live their lives, that they were freed of their obligations to him. He ordered several of them to go immediately back to his hip and start releasing prisoners, and despite their confusion, they obeyed. "Finally," he said, casting loving eyes down at Finch. "I have one last item to attend to." He looked back at his puzzled crew and pulled out his pistol, resting the tip against his temple. "I bid you all farewell." He pulled the trigger. 

Several men jumped, and a horrified gasp ran through the group. For a long time, no one knew what to say. Their silent horror was interrupted by Sean and the other prisoners crossing over to Al's ship. Sean could barely walk, being supported by a few of the others, and they helped him down to the deck where Al took one of his arms from Finch and threw it around his brother's shoulders, holding them both against him. He'd never imagined this would be possible.

"This is madness," one of Pulitzer's men hissed, pointing at Finch. "That damned thing, it entranced him somehow." He pulled his gun loose and pointed it at them. "I'll not let this stand!" 

Albert helped Sean sit and then climbed to his feet, placing himself alone between Finch, Sean, and all of Pulitzer's men. "You'll not harm them," he growled.

Finch didn't even react to the loud bang, the puff of smoke, or the body leading blood that had fallen beside him. He simply held to Albert, breathing him in. He let him go though, as Albert spotted someone ,presumably his brother. He looked up at the shout, and at the cock of a pistol, straight into the man's eyes. It was at that moment, of course, that the Sun completed its job. Gone were his tail, save the small patches of scales on his legs and arms. Replaced by two legs, which he used to right himself. He was, luckily, wearing pants, though was shirtless, as per usual. He stood up behind Albert, eyeing the man. "You'll not let this stand, will you?" He asked, voice teasing. "Well. It appears that this is standing." Finch walked, quite confidently, right up to the man, up until the barrel of the gun was less than a centimeter away from his forehead. He sung to him, letting his song carry through the air, aiming only for the man in front of him, waiting until he was confident the man was under. "It appears, my love, that you have your pistol pointed in the opposite direction." Finch's heart was beating out of his chest, licking his lips, almost  _ desperate _ for what was going to come next. His voice was sweet, "Aim it properly, darling." then sour. "Shoot."

Shakily, quite confused, the man turned the pistol on himself. "I..." he muttered. Then, "Yes, yes, of course." He brought it to the side of his head and pulled the trigger, crumpling to the ground. 

Albert moved quickly to take Finch by the shoulders, holding him tight but looking at Pulitzer's men. "There's no need for a blood bath," he said firmly. "Merely stand down, return to your ship, and sail away." No one spoke, so Al continued. "Pulitzer was no honorable man. You all know this. Are you really willing to die for his memory?"

The tenseness broke as the sailors looked at each other, a silent agreement running between them. One, then another, and another, sidled carefully past Albert and Finch to head back to their own ship.

Finch felt a small stab of defiance as Albert chided him, standing still and making bedroom eyes at all of them. If he couldn't kill them, the least he could do was tease. He watched them go, itching to follow, to send them over the side of the ship. He could do it now, too. His voice was back. He took a step towards the line of men before he really knew what he was doing. His power had been restored. His song had returned. These men could die so easily by his hand.

Al reached for Finch's arm, watching his predatory nature overwhelm him. He tugged him back, eyes sad, heart aching. "Finch..." he muttered weakly. "It's your nature. I know it's strong, but..." he swallowed hard, his decision made. "No. I love you, Finch. I'll follow you to the depths of hell, if you ask it of me." He took a breath and nodded, releasing his arm. The words hurt to say. "Do what you must."

The tug made his temper flare. Who was he to be telling  _ a siren _ what do to? Finch could kill him, too, if he wanted. But those words caught him on a hook, and reeled him in. Finch's mouth went dry, and he blinked once, twice, mind seeming to clear.  _ 'I love you' _ . He turned to him, hand blindly finding Albert's. His gazed flicked back to the men boarding their ship, but it was less than a second before his eyes were fixed on Albert's. His eyes wide, lips slightly parted. "You love me." He breathed, stepping towards him. "You really love me." His words were slow, as if it was only just occuring to him, which it was. "I... didn't have to sing to you for you to say it, which means... it's true." He could feel his fire fading fast, eyes filling with tears. The words hurt to say. "I don't... want to kill anymore." He closed his eyes, aiming to take another step towards him, but stumbled, falling into his arms, where he looked up with shining eyes. "I love you, too."

The other ship was preparing to set sail, but Albert's men were still looking on. He didn't care. He caught Finch as he stumbled, pulling him in close and kissing his face tenderly. He smiled against his skin. "I love you. I love you so much. I'll take care of you and love you to the ends of the earth, I swear it."

On the floor nearby, Sean sighed and weakly piped up. "Isn't anyone going to introduce me?"

Finch was breathing hard, his arms going around Albert's waist. "I believe you. You need not swear, I believe you, of course I believe you." He pulled away quickly, running his hands down Albert's chest, and looked down at Sean, blushing slightly. "M-my apologies. My name is Finch. You are... Sean, correct?"

Sean attempted to get to his feet, but after a moment of struggling had to settle back to the floor. He looked embarrassed, but snogged nonetheless. "Finch," he said. "The man who stole my brother's heart. I'm pleased to meet you." Albert laughed and released Finch to help Sean to his feet, keeping him leaned against him. "We should get you to a bed," he said gently.

Finch's lips parted, looking unassuredly up at Albert. "I stole nothing of the sort, pledge on my life." He let out a tiny little sigh, as Albert helped his brother. He loved his voice, now that the collar was off. It was back to normal. Perfect. How it was supposed to be. Finch looked on, as Sean was helped, idly running his fingers down his throat. What would become of them, now? Albert had pledged to love him for the rest of his life, and Finch believed him. He loved him. They loved each other. But what would become of Finch? Would he give up his tail for the rest of his life?  _ Could _ he? Was he willing? And what of his voice? Was the collar to be reinstated? He followed behind Albert and Sean, face ashen and grim, deep in thought.

Albert lowered Sean into his bed and pulled a blanket over him, urging him to rest. He gently took Finch by the hand and led him above deck, where they going a quiet corner to watch the other ship sail away. "Race," Albert called down. "The collar is in the store room below, bring it up to me." Race hurried to collect it and bring it to Albert, and then left the two alone again. Albert turned it over in his hands, smiling idly at the silvery reflection.

Without warning, he cast it out into the sea, hurling it as far as he could throw. "You'll never again be leashed," Albert promised softly. "I want you free. Finch... If you sail with us, it would please me almost more than anything in this life. I want to share my life with you. But I want you to share yours with me, as well." He looked down at the gentle waves below and stripped out of his shirt, getting down to dangle his feet over the edge. He reached back up to Finch and offered him a hand. "Will you swim with me?"

Finch's heart leapt into his throat as Albert requested the collar, and visibly tensed. So this was how it was going to be, then. A lifetime if love, but a lifetime of silence, as well. He almost flinched as Albert tossed it into the sea, eyes wide as he looked at him. Why would he not collar him? It would be safer that way, for everyone. His surprise only heightened as Albert stripped, looking down at the water, tears immediately rushing to his eyes. He stepped towards him, eyes full of unshed tears. "You mean it...?" The water. How beautifully blue. Finch couldn't believe his eyes. "I would--very much like to swim with you..." His voice sounded faraway, disbelief clear.

Al chuckled at Finch's confused expression. He took his hand and kissed it gently before letting it go. "I'll see you down there, then." With that, he jumped down off the deck and into the water. The vastness of the seas pressing around him, he floated back to the surface and threw his head back to the sky, feeling the freedom that Finch must have felt every day of his life before they'd met. A freedom Albert would never again let him forget.

Finch just stared at him, in the water, mouth strangely dry. His heart was racing. Was this real? Not just a dream? He'd dreamt of this exact scenario. Finch slowly peeled off his shirt, rubbing his shoulders before steadying himself. He jumped. The cold of the water shocked him. It was like coming home after a long long journey, stepping through the front door, and seeing everything exactly the same. It took only a few moments for his tail to reform, with little-to-no pain. The salt water invigorated him, his skin rejoicing. And his  _ hair _ . His hair hadn't been wet in  _ so long _ , not like this. It was so good. He surfaced with a large gasp, tears streaming down his face, mingling with the ocean water. He spotted Albert, and swam quickly to him, tackling him and bringing him under the water with him, kissing him deeply under the water, holding him tightly. Finch kept a firm hold on him, swimming deeper and deeper, almost worryingly so. But he'd kissed him while they were both submerged, which meant Albert could breathe freely. It seemed that with the collar off, even Finch's kisses were more alluring.

Albert gasped in surprise as they dove deeper, and found that he could breathe as easily as if he were in the open air. He laughed ecstatically as they twirled and danced into the deep, clutching Finch close and kissing him again and again. He could never get enough of those lips, and somehow they tasted sweeter coated with saltwater than they ever had before.

His eyes were closed, enjoying the now-freezing water against his skin. This feeling was long overdue. "Look," Finch whispered, pulling away slightly. There was a dully colored yellow fish swimming into their vicinity. "I've missed this... very much." He hadn't taken the time to realize the water was incredibly cold here, and there was a possibility Albert wouldn't be able to handle it.

Albert shivered and curled into Finch's arms, watching the fish swim around them unafraid. Tears in his eyes floated out into the ocean water before they could even be seen. "It's so beautiful," he murmured, taking in the endless deep blue around them,speckled with bright spots of color as more fish swam past. One brushed his foot and he jumped a bit, then laughed and turned back to Finch, eyes full of overwhelming love.

Finch instinctively held him tight, pressing a soft, cold kiss to his forehead. "It is," He said softly, wrapping both arms around him, beginning to slowly swim upwards, towards the warmer water. "I know of something far more beautiful, though."

Albert couldn't stop looking around him. This was like magic. He'd spent his whole life loving the ocean, but had never seen it quite like this. "What could be more beautiful than this?" He asked, quietly stunned.

"You, of course." His tone was soft and cool, slender fingers entangling into his hair. "I love you, Albert." Albert had taken his freedom. Taken his voice. "I give you my heart freely." He said, pausing before they reached the surface. The water was warm enough for him to be comfortable, but still cool. Beautiful.

"I love you too," Albert murmured, looking into Finch's eyes and trailing his fingers down his chest. "You've mine already," he said tenderly. "It's yours for as long as you desire it."

He let out a small sigh, eyes welling with tears that got lost in the blue ocean. This was not his home anymore. His home was wherever Albert was. He closed his eyes, sinking into his embrace, sealing their love with a kiss. "I'll desire you for as long as I live. I pledge on my life." They were still underwater. Finch knew they couldn't stay like this forever. But he also knew that wherever Albert decided to go next, Finch would follow.


End file.
